


Skin: Children of the Night

by Dark_Dhampir



Series: Skin, Blood, Sex, and Magic [1]
Category: Hemlock Grove, RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, BDSM, Blood Drinking, Blood Magic, Blood and Gore, Bondage, Burlesque, Cannibalism, Character Death, Chauvinism, Erotica, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Fantastic Racism, Ghosts, Horror, Lesbian Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Monster Hunters, Multi, Nude Photos, Other, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Sexual Assault, Polyamory, Polyfidelity, Prophetic Dreams, Public Nudity, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Serial Killers, Sex Magic, Shapeshifting, Slut Shaming, Spirits, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Stripping, Swearing, Unincorporated Area, Vampires, Voyeurism, Werewolves, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2018-09-18 03:25:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 58,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9365873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Dhampir/pseuds/Dark_Dhampir
Summary: To escape her past, Weiss moved to Beacon, a small town that touted itself as "A Place to Start Over," the kind of town where anyone could get a fresh start.  But in a town like that, everyone has skeletons in their closet. After a narrow miss, Weiss learns a few of them and gets a new one for herself in the bargain.  Now, she's a Vampire who lives and works with a pack of Werewolves who run the local Gentlemen (and Ladies)'s club.  Before she can get a handle on her new life, a serial killer begins targeting the townspeople, and her new pack are the only ones who can stop them.  If only they can avoid the monster hunters, hypocritical investigators, and their own infighting long enough to do it.





	1. Episode One: Induction Rites

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bloody Snow and White Roses](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6492235) by [GillyTweed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GillyTweed/pseuds/GillyTweed). 
  * Inspired by [Second Chance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9254381) by [dorkyduckling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkyduckling/pseuds/dorkyduckling). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably shouldn't start up another fic, but this idea was too good. I am my own worst enemy.
> 
> With apologies to jcncisfan913 for stealing the idea of Beacon as the ideal "town to start over" from their fic "Second Chance."
> 
> Seasons? Episodes? This fic was heavily inspired by HEMLOCK GROVE (although I expect it to have a more satisfying ending than THAT!), TEEN WOLF, and HAVEN, so I'm calling each story in the series a "Season" with thirteen chapters or "episodes." Whatever, I thought it was cool.
> 
> Que the Theme Music!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bjb4scJINuo  
> ()

_"Even a Person Who is Pure of Heart and Says Their Prayers by Night_  
_May Become a Wolf, When the Wolfsbane Blooms and the Moon is Shining Bright,_  
_Or They'll Crave Another's Blood When the Sun Goes Down and Their Body Takes to Flight."_

Vytal.  One of the largest (and most northern) cities in Maine.  A proud metropolis home to more than 60 thousand souls, Vytal was a hub of economic  prosperity.  Founded on the coast, its fisheries supplied grocers and restaurants up and down the Eastern Seaboard.  Its businesses were centers of financial, medicinal, and technological wonders.  And, every summer, families from across the state came to enjoy its beaches.  Truly, Vytal was the jewel of the Pine Tree State.

But this story isn’t concerned with Vytal.  No.  Our story takes place  further North, in the unincorporated land  just shy of Canada.  Here, there’s a collection of homes and businesses collectively called Beacon.  In contrast to Vytal, less than 10 thousand people call Beacon home, though they do get some runoff from their neighbor’s summer traffic.  Unincorporated, it has no authentic  system of government; the only things keeping the residents in line are the board of selectmen, the sparsely staffed State Police office, and the people’s own desire to maintain the status quo.  Beacon has an accredited public school system, but no local college.  It has a museum filled with the collected antiques and curiosities of the deceased collectors, but none of the grand institutions of art, science, and history.  It has no hospital, just a couple of clinics.  The State Police's buiding boasts no morgue, and only a small collection of test tubes and computers to act as a “lab.”  There are no buses or taxis in Beacon, only shuttles for the retirement centers.

Yet, there is one thing that Beacon offers that nowhere else in the whole country does: a chance to begin again.  They say Beacon was founded by outlaws looking for a place to lay low until they could escape the Law.  Some say it still is such a place.  All anyone can say for sure is that no one who moves there is very eager to boast about there old lives, and the locals aren't too nosey about them.

But it couldn’t be home, not to one young lady with snow white hair.   Weiss Schnee drove her old Mercedes  down an empty, dark road.  Most of the homeward bound traffic had already gone, the downside of taking the late shift in the restaurant she worked as a valet at.  It was dull work, tasks she was mind-bogglingly over-qualified for, but it paid well enough.  She was still making rent in the bed and breakfast place in Beacon she was staying at.  The only downside was that she lived in Beacon whilst working in Vytal.  Her car had good gas mileage, but she wished she could eventually find work in Beacon.  Maybe something a little more interesting than just parking and retrieving cars all night.

As she wound the corner of the forested path, Weiss’ headlights illuminated a shape in the road.  She slammed the breaks.  Breathing hard, she blinked at the sight before her:  there was a body lying in the middle fo the road.  A human body.

Weiss put the car in Park and unbuckled.  Stepping out, she rushed over to the fallen person, cell phone already in her hand.  It was a man; he had orange hair and was dressed in a white coat.  The white-haired young woman bent over to check him. 

“Ohhhhh. . .” the man moaned softly.

Weiss punched 911 into her phone.  “Hello, emergency services, I would like to report—”

“There’s no need for that, Snowflake.”

“Wha—?”  Weiss gasped.  The man on the ground had spoken.  One of his hands snaked out and wrapped around her wrist, trapping it like a manacle.  The other  yanked her phone from the other hand.  Pressing the “Call End” button, he casually threw it away.  Weiss saw it fly off into the woods. 

“By the way,” the man said, standing up.  "Thanks for stopping.  I’ve been here for almost an hour now.  I was starting to get worried I’d missed all the traffic.”  His words were biting  with sarcasm and his eyes were hard.  They held no mercy, only cruel amusement. 

Weiss reached behind her back and withdrew a collapsible baton.  Flipping it open, she struck the man as hard as she could.  The carbon-steel was light and fast, but strong and unyielding; a strike to the face could easily break the victim’s jaw.

The man caught the weapon in his bare hand. 

“Ouch,” he said.  “You know, that actually hurt, Snowflake.” 

Weiss struggled to twist the weapon free from his grasp, but, like her other hand, it was impossible.  Spinning his wrist, the man disarmed her , then kicked her feet out from under her.  From her position on the ground, Weiss saw him calmly twirl the baton in his hand.  In the illumination of her car’s headlights, she saw a red mark on the palm, but the hand should have been bleeding at the very least.  “Concealable,” the man said.  “I used to carry a cane, but those went out of style for the casual man on the street.  This doesn’t have quite the same flair, but I can make do with it— _Ouch!”_

While he was talking , Weiss had reached down and fumbled her backup weapon into her hand:  a switchblade knife.  Flipping it open, she slashed at the man’s wrist, but something was wrong; the weapon skidded and tugged, as though it was being used on something tougher than flesh.  She drew blood, but it didn’t look like a serious injury. 

“Bad idea, Snowflake,” the man said, all amusement gone from his voice.  Tucking the baton into his belt, he reached down for her.  Weiss stabbed at him, but he caught her wrist, twisting it.  Weiss screamed as the joint popped.  Her hand went limp, and the knife clattered to the ground.  “I was going to make this fast, but now?  No more Mr. Nice Vampire.”

Weiss would’ve panicked over the man’s statement—obviously he was some kind of delusional psychopath—if it werent’ for his eyes.  They had gone black.  Not dilated  pupils (which would’ve been impossible standing in front of her headlights, anyway—the irises had turned a pure, pitch color that too out from his pale skin like blood on snow.   Then his jaw opened.  Wide, too wide for a human mouth.  Then he lunged forward, and Weiss felt a burning pain erupt from her shoulder. 

Panic gripped her heart, but Weiss refused to give up.  She had come to Beacon, left behind everyone and everything she knew to live.  She wouldn’t let some freak stop her.  Her arms incapacitated, Weiss kicked at the man’s shins.  He grunted against her, but only tightened his grip.   Weiss felt herself grow weak.

Then she heard a crashing sound in the forest beside the road. 

The man jerked his head from her neck.  Weiss whimpered in pain, but continued to struggle.  The man ignored her.

“Oh, crap,” he muttered.  “I should’ve stayed in town.”  Weiss collapsed to the ground, whimpering.  She looked up and saw the man trying to force his way into her car, his long legs requiring him to move the seat back.  “Sorry, Snowflake.  It’s been fun, but I’ve got to—”

_“GGGGRRRAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHH!”_

“Whatever the man was going to say was cut off as an enormous, tawny-furred shape erupted from the forest.  It bounded over Weiss and barrrled to her car.  Weiss heard glass shatter and metal scream, but the door was already closed.  The man threw the car into reverse, yanking the car away from the monster, then twisted around and shifted in to Drive.  The last Weiss saw of her beloved Mercedes was the taillights disappearing back toward Vytal.

The big animal stood up, staking itself.  Growling, a sound reminiscent of thunder, it tensed to pursue the vehicle. 

“Yang!  No!” a voice cried. 

The beast stopped and turned around.  Weiss strained her head and saw a dark-haired, pale-skinned woman approach her, carrying what looked like a katana.  Weiss’ heart raced, no doubt pumping her precious blood even faster from her body.  For a moment, the white-haired woman imagined the mysterious woman would draw her sword and finish her.

But the woman spoke.  “We have to help her.”  Bending down, the woman spoke to Weiss, her voice was cool and calm.  “Do you want to live?” she asked.

Vigorously, Weiss nodded.  The pain in her neck screamed like banshee, but she ignored it.  

The woman continued.  “Can you stand being like him?  Because, if you do . . . you know what he is.  You know what you’ll become . . .”

 _Vampire._ The word was unsaid, but Weiss understood.  Tears sprang from her eyes, not from the pain but from the awful, mind-crushing truth she was processing.  Vampires were real, and the only way she could survive this was to become one.  Moreso than during the attack, panic and despair threated to overwhelm her, to drown her like a sailor thrown into the sea. 

I have a promise to keep, she though.  This life, whatever burdens came with it, was hers, and she would not give it up because of one mouthy asshole.   Spitting the blood, from her mouth (was it her imagination, or did the woman’s eyes darken for just a moment?).  “Live . . .” she moaned.

The woman nodded.  “So be it.”  Then, she leaned down, and once more, Weiss’ world was filled with pain blocking out nearly everything else. 

* * *

Blake bit her lip as she yanked her head back.  She’d been careful only to inject her venom into the bleeding girl, despite the scent of blood that flooded her nostrils.   Her teeth broke skin, and she greedily sucked her own life-fluid, trying to drown the hunger that filled her mind like the howl of a banshee. 

Yang padded up beside her, gently head-butting her side.  Blake opened her eyes and relaxed her jaws, allowing herself to breathe again.  Her companion’s golden eyes stared back at her before turning to the side as Yang offered her neck to her. 

Blake smiled at the gesture.  “Thank you, Yang, but not now.”  Her stomach twisted in on itself at the statement, but Blake suppressed the pain.  “We have to get her home, first.”

_Snap._

Blake spun around, cursing herself.  Even with the girl’s screaming, she should’ve  heard them approaching, although smelling them would’ve been impossible through the haze of blood.   A line of large wolf-like creatures emerged from the woods, forming a semi-circle around her.  Most of the beasts about Yang’s height, though a couple were bigger, one male was almost horse-sized.  Their fur ranged in color, but the one in the center had chocolatey hair.  The female looked down on her, not making a sound.

“Yang and I found a Vampire . . . feeding on her . . .”  Blake explained.  “He drove off . . . I had to save her.”

The beast rolled its head in an exaggerated fashion.  It was a movement Blake knew meant, “Obviously.  Get on with it.”  Sighing, glad she wasn’t being blamed for her decision, Blake stood up, cradling the girl in her arms.  Over her cries, Blake spoke.  “I’m taking her home.”

Now the brown-furred creature sounded.  It let barked once.  The sound echoed down the road. 

Blake stood her ground.  “We have to, Coco.  She’s going to turn, and we need a safe place to keep her while we train her.”

The beast growled, clearly unhappy with this argument.  Yang came up beside Blake, and she was thankful for the support.  One of the  lupine beasts, a small, russet-furred specimen papped up to her.  Whining, she licked the girl’s hand.  The white-haired victim wasn’t so loud anymore, the pain reducing her to shudders.  The red-furred creature whimpered and turned towards the pack’s alpha.  Meanwhile, another brown-haired female, this one beside the leader, lowered her head and gently nudged her in the neck.  The leader growled and swiveled her head, catching  the bitch’s ear in her teeth.  The subordinate female  offered no resistance, just letting out a quite sound that sounded more like a cat’s pur than a wolf’s growl.

With a rumble, the alpha released her captive’s ear, licking it once.  Then, she barked once at Blake.  The leader backed up and ran back into the forest, the others following after her, following the trail of the girl’s stolen car.  Blake almost fainted in relief as they left.  She doubted Coco would actually attack her; the female’s bark was worse than her bite, but it was a very nasty bark. 

The last to go was the russet-furred one.  Yang growled at the female.  She whined back before  looking up at Blake.

The woman smiled.  “She’ll be at the house when you get there in the morning, Ruby.  I promise.  Go after them.”  She wasn’t sure how much the female understood her in that form, but she seemed to get the idea.  Licking the girl’s hand one last time, she bolted after the others, her form blurring faster than Blake could keep up with.

“I guess your sister’s found herself a girlfriend,” she said to her remaining companion.  Yang sneezed at her teasing tone, but turned around, ready to depart.  “Wait, Yang . . . Could you . . . could you carry her, please?”  Blake asked.  “The blood . . .”  Blake cursed herself for her weakness, but the scent of blood had weakened her horribly. 

Her friend allowed her to place their new charge on her back.  The nameless girl gripped the hair of Yang’s mane weakly.  The poor thing.  She had no idea what she was in for.  Well, Blake thought, in some ways, it wasn’t as bad as pop-culture made it out to be.  Provided of course that the girl didn’t turn into the sort of self-hating sad sack who thought she’d lost her soul and was undeserving of love. 

Pausing only to pick up the girl’s knife, possibly her last remaining possession, Blake placed her hand on the girl’s back to steady her, and the trio began the long trek back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, roll credits!  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SlrEcL1YbQc
> 
> Happy International Fanworks Day (one day late)!
> 
> New Note: Older readers will realize that I changed the Sheriff's Department into a State Police's office. That's because I looked up the State Police and saw they do enforce county, state, and federal laws in unincorporated territories. Sheriff's department's I'm a little more unclear on.


	2. Episode Two: Ground Rules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't know Maine's laws regarding strip clubs. Or the Federal ones, for that matter. So if what happens in the Club is illegal . . . just accept it as a quirk of this reality. Or the fact that Beacon is Unincorporated (yes, I know that's not how Unincorporation works, but roll with it, all right?).
> 
> Apologies to Laurell K. Hamilton for stealing the Werewolf terminology from her ANITA BLAKE: VAMPIRE HUNTER books.

            Weiss woke up feeling sore all over.   Every muscle in her body felt as though it has been used in an Olympic-level event.  For all the trouble she was going through, she hoped she'd at least won the gold.  She opened her mouth to moan.

            “Oooohhhh—OOOOOWWWWWW!!”

            Bad idea.  Her jaw ached worst of all.  Feeling sunlight on her skin, Weiss cracked her eyes.  The sun shone through the windows, directly into her eyes.  Fighting back the urge to moan again, Weiss squeezed her eyes shut and tried to twist away.

            That was when she realized she was tied to the bed. 

            Her eyes shot open, ignoring the glare.  Raising herself as much as she could.  Weiss looked around.  She wasn’t in her room.  She was in a strange bed, her arms and legs secured by handcuffs, in a strange room, and she had clearly been there for a number of hours.  Possibly days.

            “Hey!  You’re awake!”

            Weiss whipped her head around.  There in the doorway stood a cute girl, dressed in a black tank top and polka-dotted pajama pants.  Maybe eighteen years old, the girl had dark red hair that lighted at the tips.  Her eyes were silver, and she had the biggest smile Weiss had ever seen.   In her hands, she held what looked like a breakfast tray with milk and a plate loaded down with French Toast, bacon, and sausages.

            “Ruby!” a voice cried.

            The girl jumped and turned around.  A taller, blond haired girl with lavender-colored eyes appeared, frowning at the girl.  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

            The girl—Ruby—looked down.  “I thought she might want some breakfast.  We had leftovers, and seeing as how she’s one of us now, I thought we should make her feel welcome, and French Toast always makes me feel better when I’m down, and she’s probably real hungry, and—”

            The Blonde put a finger to Ruby’s lips.  “Two things Rubes: one, her being 'one of us,' is still up to her.”  That statement made Weiss worry.  Who were these people?  “And two: do you really think French Toast is the best thing to give a baby Vampire?”

            _Vampire._ Suddenly, everything came rushing back to Weiss:  the drive, the man, the attack.  Everything.  Ignoring the pain in her body, Weiss tried to break free of her restraints, but the handcuffs held fast.  A small part of Weiss wondered why she was restrained with handcuffs that had fuzzy pink padding, but she decided she didn’t want to know the answer to that just yet.

            The blonde shook her head.  “Just go get Blake, will you?  It looks like we’ve got work to do.”

            The redhead looked back at Weiss.  “All right,” she said.  Giving Weiss one last smile, she said “See you later,” before ducking out of the doorway.

            The blonde shook her head.  Now that Ruby was gone, Weiss could see that Yang was dressed in old, torn clothes and holding a rolled-up bunch of tarp under her arm.  “Ah, kids.  Sorry about that.  My baby sis means well, but she tends to forget stuff.  My name’s Yang by the way.  Yang Xaio Long.”

            “Weiss Schnee . . . Why am I tied up?” Weiss asked.   Since she was already captured, there seemed little harm in giving them her name.

            “Well, Weiss-y, we couldn’t actually be sure you wouldn’t run off or attack someone—or both—as soon as you woke up.  Young Vampires are unpredictable, or so I’m told.  So, we had to tie you down.”  Yang drew a key out of her pocket.  “If I let unlock you, do you promise not to do any of that?”

            “. . . Yes,” Weiss said at last.  She didn’t feel strong enough to try to make an escape.  The blonde sauntered over, absent-mindedly swaying her hips.  Bending over, she unlocked Weiss’ legs first.  Then her arms. 

            Weiss sat up on the bed, massaging her wrists.  It didn’t actually hurt, but the sensation of being restrained and then freed affected her deeply.

            “Feeling all right?” Yang asked.

            “.  . . I suppose,” Weiss said.  Turning around, she squinted.  “Why am I not on fire?” she asked.  “The Sun’s up.”

            “Would you prefer it if you were?” a new voice asked.   Weiss turned around and saw the dark-haired woman from the night before walk in.  She had pale skin and silky dark hair with Asian features.  She was dressed in Japanese-looking black robe that stopped at her thighs. 

            “You’re the woman from last night,” Weiss said.  

            She nodded. “My name is Blake Belladonna; I already heard yours, Weiss Schnee.  To answer your question, sunlight doesn’t burn Vampires; it just weakens us.  You’ll feel weaker, more tired in sunlight, and your senses will be dulled, but you won’t burst into flames.”

            “That’s good to know,” Weiss said.  “Wait.  ‘Us?’  You mean, you’re a Vampire too?”

            Blake smiled and closed her eyes.   When she opened them again, they were pitch-black.  Just like the man who'd attacked her.  “What do you think?”

            Weiss swallowed.  “Why did you save me?”

            Blake’s eyes reverted to their original gold/hazel color.  “Because it was the right thing to do.  We’re not all like that one who attacked you, Weiss, and you don’t have to be either.”

            Weiss nodded.  “All right.  So, what are the rules for Vampires?  If sunlight won’t kill me, will a stake through the heart?”

            Blake smiled.  “You mean it wouldn’t kill you when you were human?  Basically, if it destroys or removes your head or your heart, it’ll kill you.  A stake will do the job, but so will a shotgun.”

            “Wood chipper trumps everything,” Yang added.

            Weiss looked at the smiling blonde, then turned back to Blake who shook her head.  “You don’t want to know,” she said.  “Continuing: you can’t enter private property without being invited in first; that includes both homes and places of business.”

            “What about garlic and crosses?” Weiss asked.

            Blake frowned.   “Garlic is annoying at night, but that’s just because of how strong the scent is. It won’t actually hurt you.”

            “Unless you put it in Nora’s food,” Yang stage-whispered.

            “Yes, messing with Nora’s food is a dumb idea,” Blake agreed.  “As for crosses . . . Religious objects can be a problem, but only if they’re wielded by a person of faith and even then, the wielder has to feel antagonistic towards you.  Basically, the object becomes a conductor for the wielder’s emotional state.”

            “If they’re angry, you’ll hurt,” Yang explained.  “If they’re scared, you’ll freak out.  If they’re friendly, you’ll be all right.  So, just stay on everyone’s good side, if you can help it.”

            Weiss nodded.  “Can I turn into a bat?”

            Blake snorted.  Yang burst out laughing.  “I wish,” her mentor said.  “We can’t fly, either.”

            “What about blood?” Weiss asked.

            The pair sobered up.  “Blood is a necessity.   We’ll help provide for you for as long as you live with us, which can be for as long as you want.”

            “Who’s we?” Weiss asked. 

            “The pack,” Yang explained. 

            “Pack?” Weiss asked.

            “Come on, Princess,” Yang drawled.  “Don’t tell me you don’t remember me.” 

            Weiss frowned at the nickname, but Blake continued.  “Think back, Weiss,” Blake instructed.  “Who—or what—did you see with me that night?”

            Weiss frowned.  “There was a big animal.  A wolf, I think.”  Her eye’s widened.  “You called it ‘Yang.’”

            The raven-haired woman smiled.  “And how can both Yang and a ‘wolf’ have the same name?”

            Yang threw head back and howled.  “Ow-ow-awhooooooool!”

            “You’re a _Werewolf?”_ Weiss asked, accusingly.

            “What is that more unbelievable than being a Vampire?” Blake asked.  “Yang and I are members of Beacon’s local Werewolf pack.” 

            “Prior to you, Blakey here was the only member to be a Vampire,” Yang said, throwing an arm around Blake and yanking her close. 

            “So, I’m a Vampire in a Werewolf pack?” Weiss asked.

            “At least until you can be trusted to control yourself,” Blake said.  “Which is going to be today’s first lesson.  Yang, will you put the tarp down, please?  Thank you.”  The blonde began unrolling the brown mat she had under her arm.  “Your weakness isn’t just from the Sun, Weiss.  You need blood.  You need to feed.”

            “. . . On you?”

* * *

            “On me,” Yang corrected.  “Blake will be here to make sure you don’t go too far,” she said, giving a disarming smile.   No need to let their protégé know that there was a possibility Blake would kill her if she did.

            “You mean, to make sure I don’t _kill_ you?” Weiss said. 

            “Better me than some random bum on the street,” the blonde remarked.  “Don’t worry; it’ll be fine.”  Actually, it wouldn’t.  It would be extremely painful and equally annoying.  Blake had explained to her that Weiss hadn’t had much time to produce venom, so there would be nothing to blunt the pain.  Trying to bury her dread at what was to come, Yang sat down in the center of the tarp.  “Ready?”

            “Now?” the newborn asked.

            “Would you prefer to do this later?” Blake asked.  Taking her student by the hand, she led her over to Yang.  Blake continued speaking, probably trying to drown both their fears in a stream of information.  “Now, for this exercise you should sit in Yang’s lap; that way she’ll be able to hold you in place.  When you bite, it’s very important to keep your mouth still so you don’t shred the victim’s neck.  Understand?”

            The girl nodded , obviously about as thrilled with that image as Yang was.  Well, at least it proved she was a decent sort.  Still, she did as she was told and settled awkwardly into Yang’s lap, placing her hands on her “victim’s” shoulders.   The older woman felt her jump a little when she wrapped her arms around her. Poor girl obviously was unaccustomed to physical contact. 

            “Good,” Blake sitting down next to them.  Rubbing her hands on both women’s backs, she continued.  “Now, I don’t know how much you remember from last night, but we don’t have fangs.  What we do have are jaws that can unhinge like a snake’s.  So just lean in and open your jaws as wide as you can . . . good . . .”

            Yang screamed as Weiss bit down without prompting.  The instincts must have been too much at this stage, even with the sunlight.   A human’s teeth are made to chew meat--thin front teeth and conical canines--but they aren’t designed for ripping into live flesh the way other creatures’ are, no matter how much money and effort the person spends on brushing and dental visits.  So Weiss needed a lot of force to tear into her neck.

            Yang heard Blake’s voice beside her, but couldn’t make out the words.  Her world shrank to a few burning points of agony.  There was the pain at the junction of her neck and shoulder, but there was also the squeezing hands that had latched onto her upper arms and now threatened to tear them from their sockets.  How much longer? she thought.  How much longer will this last?  Beside her, Blake’s voice grew louder, taking on an edge of panic.  She can’t stop, Yang realized.  She can't control herself.  Then, Blake wasn’t beside them anymore.

            A new wave of pain hit as Weiss ripped her head back and screamed.  Yang felt a new weight settle on her as familiar, powerful fingers wretched Weiss’ away from her arms.  Yang collapsed as Blake dragged the screaming girl away from her.   Then darkness overcame her, and she knew no more.

 

* * *

            Weiss rubbed her neck.  The wound had closed up without a trace, but she still felt phantom pains from Blake’s attack.  Not that she held it against her teacher.  She deserved it.

            “How’s the neck, Weiss-y?” Yang asked from the front seat of the car.

            “I should be asking you that,” Weiss answered.  When Yang didn’t answer, she signed.  “Fine.”

            “Don’t worry so much,” Yang said.  “I’ve had worse.  This one won’t even leave a scar.”

            “I should be the one apologizing,” Blake said, as she stopped at the sign.   There was no one coming, but she didn’t drive through the intersection.  Weiss recognized Vale Street, the road that connected Beacon to Vytal, and the only one to have a name rather than a number.  Across from them was the Veil Café.  Turning back she looked Weiss in the eye, shame-faced.  “It was too early to try to teach you to feed.  I’m sorry, but I really don’t know what I’m doing.  I’ve never had a Fledgling before.”

            _Fledgling,_ Blake had explained was a young Vampire, newly turned.  It was the stage Weiss was in now, totally dependent on Blake, her Sire, to teach her the nature of the world around her.  Fledgling was a second infancy, a regression to childhood.

            “I’m the failure,” Weiss said.  “I should have been able to control myself better.”  She should have.  It hadn’t even tasted that good.  The coppery fluid made her want to gag.  She remembered shuddering as the foul liquid filled her mouth; but her body had a mind of its own.  Despite her revulsion, she'd drank gulp after gulp. “I you hadn’t pulled me off when you did, I would have . . .” 

            “She did, and you didn’t,” Yang said.  “Wasn’t the first time someone in the pack has had a near-miss.”  Grinning, she said, “Anyways, uncontrollable homicidal impulses aside, how was your first meal?”

            Weiss frowned.  “Disgusting.  I can’t believe we have to drink that.   The Blood Pudding was all right, though.”  After pulling Weiss off Yang, Blake had patched her packmate up.  After making sure both women were all right, Blake had helped them to the table, where she’d warmed them up some food.  Yang had gotten a couple of leftover pork chops while Weiss had gotten a burgundy-colored liquid with the consistency of warm syrup Blake had identified as “Blood Pudding.”  It was fairly bland, but that was an improvement compared to what she’d just drunk.

            Blake nodded.  “I know, but we still need to work on feeding, just to be on the safe side.”  When she saw Weiss frowned, the older Vampire smiled.  “Don’t worry; we can put it off for a while.  With my venom still pumping in you, we probably don’t have to worry about any attacks tonight.” 

            While she was eating, Blake had explained that Vampires produced venom that was responsible for turning humans into Vampires, but it could also be used in combat against other supernatural creatures, leaving them weak and slowing their recovery (Yang didn’t have to worry about that; Weiss was still too new to have produced much venom yet).  Weiss understood; despite her recent meal, after Blake had bitten her, she’d felt like her bones were replaced with lead.  If not for the Blood Pudding, she’d probably have fallen asleep again. 

            Despite this Weiss chose not to respond to Blake’s comment, and her mentor let it drop.  The car moved again.  Surprisingly, Blake didn’t turn left to go further into Beacon or right to go to Vytal.  Instead, she drove across the street and around back behind the building.  Putting the car in park, she announced, “We’re here.”

            “Here?” Weiss asked.  The women beside her got out of the car.  Weiss stared as they walked to the back door.  The back door of a building she had never been in but knew very well, having passed by it to and from work every day for six months. 

            “Hey, Weiss!” Yang called.  “I know we look good, but you can perv on us later!  We have to introduce you to the others!” 

            Weiss blushed.  Blake was wearing black jeans and boots, with a purple and silver belt, a purple tank top over a black t-shirt, and a purple poor-boy hat.  The color scheme extended to her tennis shoes.  Yang was dressed in brown bomber jacket over a yellow shirt and khaki shorts.  Bright yellow socks and white tennis shoes crunched across the gravel of the parking lot.  They were nice clothes, attractive without being overtly seductive or .  .   . skanky.

            Not exactly what she’d expect a pair of strippers to wear on their way to work.

            Weiss shook her head.  That was rude.  There was no need to presume her new friends were . . . exotic dancers.  They could very easily be technicians or waitresses or something.  Heck, given how strong her mentor was and how muscled Yang was, the women could easily be bouncers.

            That didn’t mean Weiss wasn’t frowning.  “What are we doing here?” she asked.  To her credit, she did get out of the car.

            “We’re here to introduce you to the rest of the pack,” Blake explained.  “And to get you prepared for your new job.”

            “I’m not going to become an exotic dancer,” Weiss said.

            Yang laughed.  “'Exotic dancer?'  Who says _that_ anymore?” she asked.

            Blake rolled her eyes.  “You don’t have to be, but until we’re certain you can control yourself, you have to stay with at least one packmate at all times.  That means you’ll have to work here.  Coco’s orders.”

            Weiss opened her mouth to argue further, but Yang cut her off.  “You want to take the chance of biting some random person while we’re not around to stop you?” the blonde asked, serious now.

            Weiss hung her head in defeat.  “I’ll have to quit my old job,” she said.

            “Were you happy with it?” Blake asked, coming up and putting a hand on Weiss’ shoulder.

            “Not really,” Weiss said. 

            “Then you don’t have to mourn losing it,” the older Vampire said.

            “I guess.”

            “All right, enough with the mushy stuff!” Yang said.  Opening the door like a bellman, she grinned.  “Time to meet the rest of the family, Weiss-y!”

            “Stop calling me that,” Weiss grumbled, but allowed Blake to lead her inside, Veil Café, which advertised itself as "Beacon's Number I Ladies' and Gentlemen’s Club."

* * *

            The inside turned out to be nicer than Weiss had expected.  Having no exposure to such institutions, except what she’d seen on television, Weiss expected the din of iniquity she entered to be ill-lit and dirty, filled with rickety furniture, old beer stains, and pulsing with the stench of cheap perfume and sweat.  A pole would rise from each table, and the place would be much too small for so many people.  Instead, the main room was well-lit.  A series of large, round tables were spread evenly out--yes with poles erupting from them, but the shiny metal somehow seemed to defy its purpose as a tool of female degradation.   On one side, between the doors to the kitchen and another door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY was a long, raised stage with more shiny poles running to the ceiling. 

            About the room various people were sweeping the floor, polishing tables, and fiddling about with electrical equipment.  Most of them were women, but Weiss saw three men, one of whom was a literal giant, of about seven feet.

            She swallowed.  Out of the Sun, her senses were sharpening.  Strong scents filled the air.  One of the most potent was given off by everyone but Blake and herself.  It was a scent she’d smelled when she was close to Yang.  She hadn’t known what it was then, but she realized now what it must be:  the scent of Werewolf.

            Yang dragged her into the middle of the room.  “Look alive people, our newest undead pack member is here!  Say 'Hello!' to Weiss Sneeze!”

            “Schnee!”  Weiss growled.  “It’s Schnee, you oaf!”

            “Whatever.”

            One of the few men in the room, an Asian-American fellow who was at least seven feet tall approached the trio.  “Good afternoon, Ms. Schnee,” the towering man said. “My name is Yatsuhashi Daichi, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Weiss gulped and looked up at him.  He had a friendly face, but she reminded herself not to let that fool her.  If he was the sort of man who ran this business and made all the people under him work it, then it was all just an act.

            “Nice going, Stilts,” a brown-haired woman wearing a beret and sunglasses said, walking up and thumping the obvious Alpha Werewolf on the side.  Shaking her head, the woman, who wore a brown sweater and black skirt, lowered her sunglasses to look Weiss up and down.  “Short thing aren’t you?”

            “Wha-what?” Weiss sputtered. Turning from the giant, she focused on the woman.  “Who do you think you are?”

            The woman smiled.  “Coco Adel, owner and star performer of this little watering hole,” she replied.  “And Ulfric of the Beacon Lukoi.”

            “Own-owner?” Weiss asked.  _“You_ own this place?  _And_ you . . . you dance?”

            The woman rolled her eyes.  “We’re _Werewolves,_ honey.  Human mores don’t apply to us.”

            “Kind of hard to care about nudity when you’re getting naked with your buddies every month to turn into big ol' wolves,” an orange-haired girl with pig-tails said.

            _“Oooh!”_ another orange-haired girl said.  “Unless we had shape-changing clothes like the Fantastic Four!  Then we could have uniforms!  Wolves in uniforms!   Ren!  You know that’d be cute, don’t you?  Ren?  Ren!”

            Another Asian-looking young man with a single pink stripe in his hair sighed.  “Yes, Nora.  I’m sure you’d look cute in your wolf uniform.”  He ignored the way the rest of the assembled pack cringed at the image.

            “Anyway,” Coco said, drawing all attention back to her.  “Welcome to the pack, at least for now.  Ground rules are as follows:  until we can trust you, you are to remain with at least one of us at all times.”

            “That includes working in this . . . place,” Weiss said.  “Blake and Yang already explained.”

            “Oh, did they?” Coco asked.  “Well then.  Here’s rule number 2:  I’m queen bitch.  Whatever I say goes, so clam up and listen up.”

            “Errrrr.”  A growl rumbled in the quiet room.  Weiss looked around to see where it was coming from before it hit her:  she was growling.  “Eep!”  She jumped back, clapping her hands over her mouth.

            “Still think you know everything?” Coco asked.  “Your options are to stay with us or die.  I won’t let a baby Vampire run around killing people willy-nilly and risking the exposure of our world.  So, like I said, clam up and listen up.”

            Weiss nodded, still not trusting herself to speak.  Thankfully, Coco didn’t ask her to.

            “You don’t have to dance.  In fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t.  We don’t need more dancers.  What we need is another waitress.  So, think you can wear a skirt and serve drinks?”

            “ . . .Yes,” Weiss replied.

            “Good,” Coco said.  “Ruby.”

            “Yes, ma’am?”  Weiss recognized the girl who had offered her breakfast earlier.  

            “You’re in charge of showing her the ropes and keeping her under control.  I assume that won’t be a problem.”

            “You can count on me, boss lady!” Ruby cried, saluting like a soldier.  She actually looked serious.

            “Good to know, but I wasn’t asking you, pup,” the woman said.  “Kit-Kat, you think we can trust your Fledgling not to do anything too outrageous?”

            “She’s fed, and she’s willing to learn,” Blake replied.  “I believe we can trust her.”

            Weiss felt a swell of pride at her Sire’s words.  “Whatever,” Coco said.  “Just remember it’s your in-law she’s most likely to injure if things go sideways on us.”

            “C’mon, boss,” Yang said.  “You really think I’d let my little sister get into danger?”

            “Guess even a Vampire’d have to be stupid to piss you off, Blondie” Coco admitted.  “Well, I guess we should do introductions, now.  Everyone, you’ve just met Weiss.  Weiss, you already know me, Blake and Yang, and Stilts over here has already introduced himself.  As for the rest of you,” she gestured to the assembled men and women. 

            “I’m Arslan Altan,” said an Arabic-looking woman with (presumably dyed) blonde hair.  “Stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.”

            “Arslan’s not the biggest fan of Vamps,” said a girl of South Asian descent.  Spikes of pink hair stuck out from beneath her ski cap.  “Neither am I.  The name’s May Zedong.  Don’t make us regret saving you.”

            The next woman to speak was Caucasian, but her hair was also died.  Her’s was a bright green.  “Reese Chloris,” she said.  She wore a dark hoodie, and her hair seemed to flow loop-sided, in a style that vaguely reminded Weiss of her own sideways pony-tail.  “Don’t mind them.  They don’t trust easy, but they’re loyal to the pack.”

            “Which you should worry about if you plan to hurt it,” May said.

            “Don’t threaten the newbie, May,” Reese said.

            Nora spoke now.  “I’m Nora!  But, I guess you already knew that ‘cause Ren said it.  This is Ren, by the way,” she said pointing to her companion.  “We work in the kitchen, not dance.  Well, Ren can’t dance, cos only the girls dance, and he’s a boy.  And if he was a dancer, he couldn’t cook, which would be bad.  I mean, _really_ bad, because his lobster po-boy is to die for!  Well, I guess you already have died, so—”

            “Nora, breathe,” Ren said.  Shaking his head, he continued.  “Don’t let Nora intimidate you.  She’s mostly harmless, and a good cook in her own right.  If you get hungry, we’ll fix you something.  We even have some Blood Pudding in the fridge, although you’ll have to watch who sees you eating it.  Velvet is also in the kitchen with us.”

            At this, Ren had pointed to a girl in a dull pink outfit.  The girl shuffled a little.  “My name is Velvet.  Velvet Scarlatina,” she said.  “Yes, I work in the kitchen, too.  I’m sure we’ll have plenty of opportunities to get to know each other.”

            “And, I’m the glamorous, the legendary, the one and only Neon Katt,” proclaimed the pig-tailed girl from before.  Unlike most of the women, Neon was actually dressed provocatively, in a white halter top and miniskirt combo.  A rainbow spiraled around her right bicep.  “And, I don’t work in the kitchen,” she said, striking a pose.

            “Salutations!” cried a third orange-haired girl (three of them?  What were the odds of that?)  She wore a gray sundress and dark-gray pants.  “My name is Penny Poledina.  I am in charge of the lights and music and all other technical aspects of our performances.”

            “I am Ciel Soleil,” said an African American girl in a blue beret.  “Currently, I am employed as a waitress, like yourself.  Hopefully, however, if you prove competent and are willing to stay with us, Coco will allow me to become a dancer.”

            “You _want_ to be a . . .?” Weiss couldn’t finish it.  It was too ludicrous.

            “An ecdysiast?” Ciel asked.  “As Neon pointed out, Werewolves have moderately different social values than humans, a bi-product of our feral psychologies and the necessities of our lifestyle.”

            “Way to take the sexy out of being a nudist, girl,” Coco said, snorting.

            Ciel continued.  “I find my current role acceptable, but becoming a dancer would allow me a greater opportunity to ‘blow off steam,’ as it were.  You will understand in time, I’m sure.”

            I doubt that, Weiss thought, but wisely didn’t say.

            “My name is Fox Alister,” said the third and final male in the room.  Like Ciel he was African American, but had red hair and grey eyes.  With no pupils.  “Yatsuhashi and I are bouncers, and before you ask, yes, I’m blind.”

            “If anyone gives you trouble, please don’t be afraid to ask for our help,” the giant added. 

            “I will,” Weiss said, meaning it.  Vampire or not, the size of the man was more than a little intimidating.

            “And I’m Ruby!” the girl shouted.  “But, you already knew that.  Anyway, I’m a waitress like you and Ciel.  I promise I’ll make you the best waitress in the bar!  Trust me.   I’ve been doing this for years!”

            “Years?” Weiss asked.  “You’re barely old enough to be in this club!”

            “Advantage of being Werewolves,” Coco explained.  “We may not be ageless, but we do age slower than regular humans.”

            “Lets us this stay good-looking for a long, long time!” Yang said, striking a pose.

            “I hate to be the one to break up this welcome diversion,” Arslan said, “but we are on a deadline.  And with a new recruit, no less.”

            “Agreed,” Coco said.  “Ruby, get her in uniform!  The rest of you sluts, chop, chop!  We got work to do!”

            “Right-o, Boss-Lady” Ruby said as the pack devolved back into their previous activities.  “Come on, Weiss!  Let’s get you dressed for success!”

            “Please tell me I don’t have to wear a bikini,” Weiss said.  As much as this place had defied her expectations, it was still a strip club.

            “Of course not!” Ruby chimed.  Smiling, she grabbed Weiss’ hand and led her into the room opposite the kitchen.  “The patrons are here to look at the dancers, not us!  Our job is to look good while bringing them drinks and dinner.  Let the others look sexy!  Anyway, this is the dressing room!” she said, opening the door.

            The room was larger than the kitchen, though as one side was dominated by mirrored dressers and another by a long closet, there wasn’t much difference in space.  “This is where the girls come to get dressed before and after a performance.  See those?” she asked, pointing to a trio of steps that led up to a walkway with a separate door.  “That leads to the stage.  We don’t have to worry about that except making sure it stays clean and clear.  Anyway, the others keep their costumes here, but our uniforms are stored here too.  See?”  Ruby walked over to the back end of the room, the far end of the closet.  “These are our’s,” she said, gesturing to small collection of clothes.  “The rest are the performers’.  Don’t try those on without permission," she said.  Pointing to the cutaway in the wall, the girl continued, "That leads to the bathroom."

            “Yes, I guessed that from the tile floors,” Weiss said.

            “Right,” Ruby said, blushing.  “Anyway, you’ll want to use that if you don’t want to be harassed by the clients.  I mean, they shouldn’t harass you at all, but some jerks always sneak in.  There’s another one in the kitchen, but that’s a one-person thing, and it doesn’t have a shower.  You’ll get sweaty, trust me.  And tired.  Personally, I love a good shower at the end of the night, and I think you will too.”

            “So Vampires can still sweat?” Weiss asked.  “Good to know.  Can I eat anything besides Blood Pudding, or can I never have one of those legendary Lobster Po-Boys Nora mentioned earlier?”

            “I’m pretty sure you can eat; Blake can eat, at least.”

            “Well, that’s something,” Weiss said.  Remembering a comment Coco had made earlier, she asked.  “Ruby, what did Coco mean when she said she was the . . . Utheric and Loukoi?”

            “Ulfric,” Ruby corrected.  “It just means she’s the boss.  You know, like the alpha female.  Us Werewolves have our own sub-culture and code words and stuff.  Ulfric for the leader, and Lukoi refers to the pack.  Or to Werewolves in general, but mostly it means the pack.  Oh, and you Blake are Garmr; you’re not Werewolves, but you’re a part of the pack.  Don’t worry, you’ll pick it up pretty quick.”

            “All right,” Weiss said.  “So is this the only . . . Lukoi in Beacon?” 

            Ruby nodded.  “We’re kind of like normal wolves;  we have our own territory that we claim as our own.  It’s our home.  We hunt in it—don’t worry, we only hunt animals—and fight other predators who enter our boundaries without permission.  That’s how we found you, by the way.  We caught the scent of this Vampire—the one that attacked you—and we went to investigate.  Just like how a pride of lions will fight another if it comes into their territory on the savannah.”

            Weiss blinked.  “You seem to know a lot about this,” she said.

            Ruby grinned.  “Yeah, well, I majored in biology.”

            “You’ve been to college?” Weiss asked.  Despite what the others had said, she still thought Ruby looked barely legal.

            “Online classes,” Ruby said.  “But, yeah.  I earned my Bachelor’s degree in Bio at U Maine.  Go Black Bears!”  The Werewolf threw her hands into the air like she was at football game.

            Weiss shook her head.  “So, you _are_ older than you look?” she asked.

            “Yeah,” Ruby said.  “Coco’s in her thirties, believe it or not.  If nothing bad happens, I could live to be two, maybe three hundred years old.” 

“All right,” Weiss said, her head spinning at the implications.  Maybe she should save these questions for later.  “Where are these uniforms of ours again?”

* * *

            Weiss was pleasantly surprised to discover the uniform was not, in fact, a bikini.  Instead, she wore a long-sleeved white dress shirt and black bow tie with a black skirt, stockings, and flats.  It wasn’t totally modest, of course.  The shirt didn’t come all the way down, exposing her navel, and there was a diamond-shaped “window” below the collar that showed off her cleavage.  And the skirt didn't come to her knees.  It was also pretty tight.  On the whole, however, she’d seen high schoolers wearing more revealing outfits on the streets. As much as she was annoyed to admit it, Weiss actually liked the costume.  It made her feel daring yet elegant and sophisticated. 

            The work wasn’t that hard either.  Thankfully, Weiss was quite accustomed to biting her lip when dealing with unlikeable people, so it was easy enough to put on a fake smile when dealing with the pervs’ tables and taking and serving their orders.  Actually, the smile wasn’t that fake.  Ruby had turned out to be right about the customers.  They were much more interested in the food and drink she brought than hitting on her.  While there were pigs who’d made unwelcome comments towards her, most had been polite, even amicable.  Like Ruby’d said, the men’s (and the women’s) attention was much more focused on what was going on on-stage than her.

            That may have been the real problem Weiss encountered that night.  While the trays weren’t that heavy, Weiss had almost dropped them five times now because she was so distracted by her new co-workers.  She was given a first-class look at how true the club's slogan really was.

            It wasn’t just that the women were attractive, although they were.  Goodness, they were.  But not necessarily in the conventional sense.  Some, like Reese and May, were rather small-chested.  Some were a little on the short side, and some were just . . . odd.  Like Neon, she of the ponytails and the spiraling rainbow tattoo.  Yet, they all had a kind of presence that was impossible to ignore.

            One of the best examples of that was the leader of the pack.  “Ladies and Gentlemen!” Penny’s voice rang out.  “Please give a warm applause to the proprietor of our establishment, Miss Coco Adel!”

            A loud, rhythmic number began blaring from the speakers as Coco strutted onto the stage.  She was dressed in smart school girl’s uniform, with a pleated skirt, buttoned-up jacket, and heeled boots.  She still wore the glasses and beret she had on earlier.    She grabbed the center pole as she was going to pass it and swung herself around.  She wore a . . . powerful smile.   Smug and satisfied.  Completely aware that she had control of the viewers, but not dependent on them.  She was doing this for herself, her smile said.  Not for them.  _They_ were here for _her_ amusement.

            Coco unbuttoned her jacket, swaying her hips as she did.  She slid it off her shoulders, a movement that forced her chest out.   Letting the article drop to the stage floor, she kicked it back.  Coco put her arms behind her head, the act causing her shirt to ride up and show off her mid-drift. 

           Leaning back against the pole, the Ulfric began to unbutton her shirt.  She started at the bottom and worked her way up, pulling the shirt apart, showing off her toned stomach.  Like the jacket, she pulled it open, revealing a lacey, black bra underneath.   Coco whipped the shirt around, throwing it back behind the stage with a flourish.  She rubbed her stomach, slid her hands to her sides and up her ribs.  They pivoted and captured her still-covered breasts—raising them, squeezing them.  Weiss heard the Ulfric give a quiet moan, too low for the patrons to hear.  They saw her face though, the way her mouth opened to let out that inaudible moan, her eyes closed in contentment.

            Coco released her breasts, sliding her hands back down her sides, til they came to the waist of her skirt.  Bumping her hip, she undid the skirt and let it fall with another shake of her hips.  What little modesty she had was covered by a pair of panties, lacey and black, just like the bra.  She stepped out of it with one long, stocking-clad leg, then used the other to kick it back off the stage like her shirt and jacket.  Clad in underwear, knee-high stockings, and high-heeled shoes, the Ulfric stood proud before the cheering crowd.

            Coco leaned over, falling backwards.  She grabbed the pole and swung herself around in a circle.  She pulled herself up again.  She turned around and swung her hips, showing off her backside to the audience.  She reached around back and slipped the straps of her bra over her shoulders.  Then, she unclipped the bra.  Coco slowly turned around, holding her bra cups to her chest.  Smirking, she squeezed them close to her chest, then dropped them. 

            Coco’s nipples were pierced.  A pair of shiny silver-looking (but not real silver, was it?) rings pierced her crimson peaks.  The Ulfric cupped her breasts again, squeezing the full, fleshy orbs, lifting them, smooshing them together.  She pushed her thumbs up, slipping them through the loops of the rings, tugging on the taunt flesh.  The moan—no, _howl—_ she let out resounded over the music.  Weiss felt her knees shake.  She was glad this must’ve been the end of the show.

            Except then Coco’s hands dropped and she hooked her thumbs through the straps of her thong, pulling them out, loosening the article.  She swerved her hips, out of time with the movements of her hands.  Then, she bent forward and pulled the offending article down as the crowd cheered.

            Weiss blinked.  Weren’t there laws against full nudity in strip clubs?  Wasn’t it just toplessness?  That’s what television had led her to believe.  Of course, those shows were always set in New York City, not Beacon . . .

            Coco straitened herself again, lifting knee, thrust the leg out, giving the audience a good view of what was between her legs, then set the leg down again.  Grabbing the pole, she swung around, her legs held out taunt.  She stopped mid-spin, lifting the leg around which her thong still dangled.  Coco crooned as she leaned forward, the movement undoubtedly pressing her exposed crotch against the cool metal.  One hand released the pole and grabbed the dangling fabric, slowly pulling it up off the leg.  Coco lowered her leg and threw the thong back behind the stage with the rest of her discarded outfit.  All that remained now were her shoes, stockings, glasses, and beret. 

            She grinned that grin of power and brought her legs down.  Releasing the pole, she strut around to the front of it again.  She leaned against the pole, shamelessly showing off her body.  Her long legs, her toned stomach, her artfully cut hair that framed her face, her big, pierced breasts, and her shaved crotch.  Weiss was surprised that her womanhood was pierced as well, a dull rivet jutted from her labia.           

            Coco grinned and flicked the bit of metal.  She gasped as it rubbed against her clit.  Smiling, she flicked it again.  She rubbed her backside up and down on the pole.  Inserting two fingers of her free hand into her mouth, Coco sucked them; when she removed them, they sparkled with saliva.  She inserted the two into her slit and let out another howl.

            This has to be illegal, Weiss thought as she watched Coco pump her right index and middle fingers in and out of her wet passage.  Surely, this was against the law to do this in a public forum.  She didn’t notice she was staring.

            Illegal or not, it was happening. Coco howled again as she continued grinding.  Her hand left her rivet, going up to twist the rings in her nipples.  It looked painful, yet Weiss couldn’t look away.  There was something so . . . enticing about the show.

            A hand clamped down on her wrist.  “Weiss!” Ruby hissed.

            The Fledgling Vampire turned around, hissing.  Ruby was holding her, wrist in one hand, her tray in the other.  Weiss blinked and looked around.  She was closer to the stage now, much closer.

            “In the Kitchen, now,” Ruby whispered.  “C’mon.”  She let go of the Vampire’s wrist.  Weiss nodded and followed after her into the kitchen, trying to ignore the sounds and scents coming from the room behind her.

            “Hey!” Nora called, as the girls came in.  “We got nachos!” she called, holding up a plate of steaming, cheesy chips. 

           As though the words themselves were some kind of trigger, Weiss gagged.  Her nose was assaulted by the scents of cheese, oil, seafood, grease, garlic, pepper, and raw and cooked meat.  She bent over, dry heaving.  After a moment, however, she was breathing normally again. The scents were still strong, but bearable now. 

           “What . . . happened?” she asked.  “Why did I . . . what happened out there?” she asked, gesturing to the double doors.

           “Blake didn’t get a chance to tell you much about our world, did she?” Velvet asked.  Her voice was quiet and she spoke with an accent.  Australian?  British?  Weiss had always had trouble telling them apart.

           “What do you mean?” Weiss asked.

           The brown-haired girl shook her head.  “You know that sunlight makes you more human right?” 

           Weiss nodded.  “Right.  My body and my senses become weaker.  The sunlight’s gone so they’re back to ‘normal’ or whatever qualifies as normal for a Vampire.”

           “But it’s not just your powers, Weiss,” Velvet explained.  “It affects your psychology as well.  Prolonged absence from daylight doesn’t just increase your powers, but it will also increase your instincts.  Blake said she bit you, so the venom’s still keeping it down, but under normal circumstances?  You’ll be hungrier, angrier, and even more libidinous.”

           “Li-you mean my sex drive goes up!” Weiss screamed.

           “It’s kind of the same for us,” Ruby said.  Weiss turned to her.  “Why do you think most the pack works in a strip club?  Where the strippers do what amounts to real-life porn shoots?  I mean part of it is because we have a different value-set than your average Human, but this is independent of that.”

           Weiss shook her head.  “I . . . I think I need a minute,” she said.

           “Here,” Ren said.  Weiss looked up and saw him holding a bowl of microwave-warmed Blood Pudding.  “I thought this might help you.”

           Weiss sighed.  “Well, I suppose it’s better than biting someone in the audience.”  Ruby snorted.  Weiss scowled at her, before realizing what she'd said to the male.  “I’m sorry, Ren.  I shouldn’t let my . . . dissatisfaction in this diet make me ungrateful.”

           “Here!” Nora said.  She handed Weiss a large glass vessel filled with white powder, capped off with a metal lid full of holes.  “Everything tastes better with sugar!” she explained.

           “Thank you,” Weiss said as Ruby guided her to a table at the back.  “Thank you.”

           “You going to be OK?” Ruby asked.

           “I should get back out there,” Weiss said.  “Coco—”

           “She’ll understand,” Ruby said.  “I’ll talk to her about it.”

           Weiss frowned.  “I don’t want you to get in trouble for me, Ruby,” Weiss said.

           “I’ll go with her,” Velvet said.  “Coco might be annoyed . . .”  Velvet thought a moment.  “Well, it’s more than likely she _will_ be annoyed, but she won’t take it out on Ruby, or you.  I promise.”

            “Thank you,” Weiss said again.

            “What are pack-mates for?” Ruby asked.  Leaning down, she licked Weiss’ cheek.  “Oops!  Sorry.  I, ah, ah . . .”

            “Just go,” Weiss said, discovering first hand that Vampires could in fact blush.

            “Right,” Ruby said, before zipping out back through the double doors.

* * *

            The Blood Pudding helped.  Ren said that a Vampire’s desires were all pretty much mixed up:  hunger, sex, territory.  Feeding one helped bring the others under control.  Or maybe it was just sitting in the kitchen with all the conflicting scents.  Regardless, Weiss made her way back out into the workspace. Back to serving drinks and baskets of food.  The dancers were still a distraction—trying to ignore them was like trying to ignore the world’s most beautiful car accident in the next lane—but it was doable now.  Now that she was fed and knew what she was up against.

            As Weiss walked back into the changing room, though, she couldn’t help but be a little depressed.  Was this going to be her life now?  Being constantly on guard to make sure she didn’t jump anyone who turned her on? 

            She didn’t regret her decision of course; as annoying as this new life was, she hadn’t been ready to die.  That wasn't to say she wasn't concerned about what new surprises might be waiting for her just around the corner, she thought as she walked into the changing room.

            “OOOOHHHH!”

            Weiss stopped at the threshold of the door.  Velvet.  Velvet was bent over the dresser.  Her chef’s outfit was strewn all around her.  Yatsuhashi stood behind her, in a similar state of dress.  His hands gripped the brown-haired girl’s hips as his pelvis moved back and forth quickly.  It was obvious what they were doing.

            Weiss’ brain froze.  Once again, her distrust of the giant man began to re-assert itself.  Was Velvet consenting?  Should Weiss do something?  Should she . . . join in?

            Weiss closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to break through the reemergence of her supernatural lust.  While doing so, she heard something else, over the sound of the showers.  Ruby.  Ruby crying out.

            Either to get out of the room or out of concern for her young friend, Weiss bolted from the room into the bathroom.  “Ruby!” she called.

            Her cry was ignored--which was probably a good thing, all things considered.  Weiss saw the group shower didn’t have a curtain, and under the running water, she saw Ruby.  Naked.  Held up against the wall.  Blake was holding her up, her head between the redhead’s thighs. 

            Weiss had been tempted by the sight of Velvet and Yatsuhashi, but the vision of Ruby . . . the girl’s head thrust back, her mouth opened, as she cried out in pleasure. Her breasts shaking as she panted, her wet skin flushed from the hot water and arousal . . .  Without noticing it, Weiss began walking towards the pair.

            “Hot, aren’t they?”

            Weiss spun around.  Behind, she saw Coco and Arslan.  The dark-skinned woman was dressed in her day clothes again, while the Ulfric was wrapped in a towel.  Weiss flushed.  “I . . . I thought Yang and Blake were . . . together.”

            “They are,” Arslan said.  “Yang is Blake’s Bitch.”

            Weiss was too shocked at the blunt (and hostile) remark to reply.  Coco took advantage of her muteness.  “You’re making the mistake of assuming we operate on Human customs.  Just like the stripping.”

            “I thought wolves were monogamous,” Weiss asked. 

            “Wolves are.  Werewolves aren’t,” Coco said.  “Ruby and Velvet explained to you that we have stronger sex drives than Humans, right?”

            “You don’t believe in fidelity?” Weiss asked, frowning.  “You just screw with whoever smiles your way?”

            Arslan smiled.  “We are faithful to the pack.  We share ourselves with one another.  Not outsiders.” 

           Coco continued.  “And before you ask, Yes, this sort of thing happens a lot around here, and No, you can’t join in.”  Weiss blushed.  “You’re not a part of the pack, yet.  Maybe you won’t ever be.”  She frowned.  “So, stick to your hands until further notice, got it?”

           Deciding to ignore that last remark, Weiss pressed on.  “What did you mean earlier when you called Yang Blake’s . . .”

           “Bitch?" Coco asked.  "Werewolf lingo.  Just because we're all screwing each other-" she paused and amended her statement. "Well, as we like; Ruby's full on gay rather than bi so the boys aren't having fun with her but . . . _details._   Anyway, in spite of the rampant polyamory, we do sometimes form close, intimate--emotionally intimate--relationships within the pack.  That's what a Bitch is, someone . . . special," she made a "whatever" gesture with her hand "to the person."

           "Anyway, it'll probably be too much for you to use the showers for a while.  Arslan will take you home.  The showers should be open there.  We'll be back later.  See ya, sluts," she said, turning and walking back through the door.

           "Wait!  Where are you going?" Weiss asked.

           Coco turned and gave Weiss a smile that made the Fledgling Vampire feel both scared and aroused.  "I'm going to join Yatsu in teaching Velvet a lesson.  Ruby did good alerting me to your problem, but Velvet got a little too pushy for a girl who isn't her responsibility.  I need to remind her that being one of my favorite partners doesn't let her do whatever she wants."

           Weiss' eyes went wide but before she could say anything else, Arslan had grabbed her arm.  "Lets go," she said, before leading her away none too gently.  Weiss caught a glimpse of Coco opening her towel to Yatsuhashi and Velvet.

           The pair paused so Arslan could grasp a duffle bag.  Shoving it into Weiss' arms, she explained, "The clothes you were wearing earlier." 

           The pair stepped out into the gravel.  Here, Weiss recovered her voice somewhat. 

           "Are you just going to, going to . . .?" she asked.

           "What?" Arslan replied, briefly.

           "Are you just going to let Velvet _suffer_ in there while you do nothing?"

           Arslan stopped and considered her for a moment.  Then she replied.  "Velvet isn't suffering.  I can promise you.  This might be a punishment, but it's not one that hurts her to take."  While Weiss was confused by this statement, Arslan led her to the last two cars left in the parking lot: a Jeep and an RAV.  She took the Fledgling to the larger of the two.  Opening the trunk, she spoke again.  "You know what this is?" she asked, pointing to the lid on the floor.

           "A compartment holding the spare tire," Weiss replied.  "What does this have to do-"

           Arslan cut her off.  "It used to hold the spare tire.  I took it out for more room.    Did Ruby or Blake or anyone tell you what I am?"

           Weiss frowned. "No."

           "I'm the Bolverk," Arslan said.  "Think of me as Coco's enforcer."  She flipped the lid of the tire well open.  Weiss' eyes widened at the assortment of weapons she saw.  Wooden stakes, large-bladed knives, and a hatchet,.  She flipped the other lid, revealing a collection long, silver spikes.  "I do the dirty work.  I deliver the less-fun punishments.  I protect the Ulfric from assassinate."  She paused and looked Weiss dead in the eye before continuing.  "And I kill anyone who threatens the pack." 

           She slammed the lids and the trunk shut.   "Right now, you're at the top of that list you self-righteous blood-sucking mutt!"  The Werewolf shoved her face into Weiss' own.  The Fledgling took an involuntary step back. 

           Arslan went on.  "You don't get to stand there and think we're a mess of harlots while getting wet to it--and don't deny it; I can fucking smell you!  You don't get to talk like Coco is some kind of sadistic abuser when other packs would have beaten Velvet _and Ruby_ within an inch of their lives for what they did for you!"  Arslan shook her head in disgust.  "That's ignoring the fact that other packs would've killed you instead of taking you in.  Coco admitted Velvet was in the right, and now she has to re-establish her dominance over Velvet, but instead of having me break her fingers or nose, or even doing it herself, she just has some fun dominating Velvet in sex.  AND VELVET'S A FUCKING _SUB!_    Go back in there if you think you can without jumping in with them!  Listen!  Is Velvet crying in pain?  Fuck no!  She's enjoying it!  Coco's telling Velvet she did good!"  Arslan turned and slammed her fists on the back of the care, breathing heavily.  Then, she addressed Weiss again.  "Don't you _ever_ think that this pack doesn't love each other.  All of us.  Those two, Coco and Velvet, they drew us together because they . . . because we believed in them.  Because we _still_ believe in them," she said.  Shaking her head she stood up again.  "Get in the car," she said, going around to the driver's side.  "Ask your Sire about it when she get's home."

           Weiss did as she was told and climbed into the car.

            For a while, the two drove in silence, before Weiss spoke again.  "Is Velvet Coco's . . . Bitch?" she asked.  It was a difficult question to ask, given the Human connotations of the word.

           "She should be," Arslan replied, and the rest of the trip continued in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well . . . that was long. Like I said, cramming a whole story into 13 chapters means some pretty long chapters.
> 
> The part about how religious objects have a subjective effect based on the U.K. version of BEING HUMAN.
> 
> Arslan . . . wow, I had no idea when I started out how much I would end up liking her, but now I've got some ideas about her backstory. We'll see that later. Next chapter/episode will start the main "arc" of the season.


	3. Episode Three: Running with the Pack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternat Title for This Episode: "Shame, Excitement, and Terror"

**Chapter 3: Running with the Pack**

           Weiss found her new life to be easier to adapt to than she would’ve thought.  She got used to serving drinks and ignoring the way her “pack-mates” ignited her libido.  After they returned home, Blake would train her in her newfound powers, testing the limits of her strength and speed, learning to control them, tracking animals and pack-mates through the forest around the Pack House.  Then, they’d go back to their rooms; Weiss would read a little or something then fall asleep.  She would wake up again around noon (given that she usually fell asleep around 6 or 7 a.m. it was apparent her stamina had increased as well).  Blake still insisted on teaching her how to feed safely.  It was unpleasant, and Weiss still had trouble stopping but at least now she wasn’t blacking out and sucking like a vortex.

            Training was followed by a hearty meal of Blood Pudding, and goodness help her, she was starting to like the stuff.  The rest of the day was her’s to do with as she pleased.  Arslan and May still didn’t like her, and Coco was still . . . distant.  Reese and Neon had opened up to her, though.  The girl with the rainbow tattoo was just as odd as she’d thought, and perhaps twice as energetic.  Reese, however, was mellow enough, apart from her love of skateboarding.  Nora was always on a perpetual sugar high, but she was almost always with Ren, who kept her somewhat in check.  Fox was generally pretty distant, but never hostile.  Velvet and Yang remained friendly as always. 

           Yatsuhashi she was coming to realize she’d misjudged completely.  Though as big as a bear and built like a professional weight-lifter, he was unfailingly polite and spoke gently.  To her, anyway, observing him Sunday night, when the pack gathered to play board games ("What did you expect?" Yang had asked when she'd seen Weiss' face.  "It's not like strip-poker is all that impressive to a pack of professional nudists!"), she saw that the giant had a boisterous, competitive side.  He laughed loudly at the others' jokes and threw around trash-talk alongside his teammate Coco.  Yet, whenever she spoke to him or vice versa, his voice dropped and his words became soft and formal.

            Blake was a good friend and teacher.  She was patient, helping her to understand her new hungers and powers.  She took Weiss out into the woods behind the house and helped her explore here newfound senses, had her practice throwing stones at targets of varying distances to control her strength, and ran through combat drills with her.  Weiss already had some self-defense under her belt from . . . before . . . but Blake had to teach her how to fight as a Vampire, how to channel her instincts.  Weiss quickly saw that if those instincts had their way, hand-to-hand combat would be teeth-to-throat combat.  Weiss couldn’t let that happen, not only to avoid killing people when she didn’t want to, but for her own safety as well.

            “That’s the problem with Werewolves,” Blake explained when they took a break.  “In their beast forms, their attacks are pretty predictable; it’s the result of their instincts and their body-shapes.  They almost always attack head-on, trying to bite the enemy. But, your body can do other things, Weiss.  You need to be able to remember that, to remember your options even in the heat of battle.  Your life, or the lives of the pack, may depend on it.”

            Then there was Ruby.  The young Werewolf had the habit of popping up regularly trying to get Weiss involved in group activities, like games or watching movies of television.  Or recommending books to her.  Or just generally trying to get on Weiss' good side.  The white-haired Fledgling wasn't a fool.  She could see that her mentor in the fine art of waitressing was smitten with her.  It was flattering and--if she were to be totally honest--not unrequited.  The problems were that A) Coco and Arslan had been rather insistent on keeping her distance from the pack (and Blake had supported them; her control wasn't refined enough yet for . . . intimate relations) and B) Weiss couldn't get the image of Blake pleasuring the girl out of her head.  While it was undeniably arousing (Weiss had in fact, made use of it in "private moments"), it was also much too confusing for the newly turned Vampire.  Weiss was coming to understand and accept that the pack was genuinely close to one another, but it was hard to let go of her human prejudices.  Especially her own experiences . . .

* * *

 

            Weiss walked through the club, delivering drinks, snacks, and meals.  Thankfully, her new body was even more coordinated than it had been when she was human; it allowed her to accomplish her task with her mind mostly focused on the date.  It was the last night before the Full Moon; tomorrow, the club would be closed, and the pack would run through the woods with their Vampires Garmr in tow.  Weiss wondered, not for the first time, how the pack was able to hide what they were.  Didn’t anyone ever notice how they closed down once a month, on the night Werewolves were known to come out and play?

            Weiss was so caught up in her thoughts—and trying very, very hard to ignore the way Neon was hanging upside down on stage, pleasuring herself—she didn’t even notice the woman until the shouting began. 

            “Joseph Patrick McFee you get your blasted ass out of that chair or so help me, I’ll kick it out!” a woman’s voice cut through the noise, diverting everyone’s attention to the table.

           "Martha!" a man said, cowering in front of her.  "Honey, I can explain . . ."

           "You can explain it to your attorney if you don't come home this instant!" the woman screamed.  Reaching forward, she grabbed the man and yanked him to his feet. 

           Weiss sighed.  She wasn't terribly surprised by this turn of events.  In fact, she was surprised she hadn't discovered unfaithful spouses before now.  The best thing she could say about this one was that he wasn't one of the rare jerks who'd made attempts to "entice" the dancers into a liaison.  Sadly, he was her customer and he still had to pay his tab.  "Excuse me, ma'am."

            _"Excuse you?"_ The woman shrieked turning on her.  "Listen to me you hussie!  I--"  She kept talking after that, but Weiss couldn't hear her.  She couldn't hear anything.  She couldn't see anything.  Her head pounded.  Her heart clenched.  Every muscle felt like it was burning.  She wobbled, unable to help herself.

           "Eis." a voice cried.  What was that? 

            "Weiss."  That voice.  It was female.  Who was it?

            "Weiss!"  

             "Ruby?" Weiss felt a surge of energy.  A great warmth flowing through her skin, her veins.  It didn't burn like the feelings before did.  Now it was just a warmth, a comfort.  She felt safe, dreamy, like she had when she was a human waking up in that semi-waking, semi-sleeping feeling.  Ruby kept whispering sweet nothings to her ear, leading her back into the kitchen.  She heard other voices in the background but couldn't make them out.  Who was speaking or what they were saying.

            "Weiss?  Are you OK?" The redhead asked.  Her surroundings came back into focus.  She was sitting in a chair in the kitchen.  Ruby was leaning over her looking concerned.  The redhead's collar was open.  Given the design of the uniform, it didn't reveal much Weiss didn't already see on a regular basis.  The angler, however, was a bit more distracting.  Looking around to avoid an awkward conversation, Weiss saw Velvet sitting in the background.  

            "I'm fine," Weiss replied.  "What happened?  I remember that woman yelling at me, then everything was swallowed by pain."

            Ruby frowned. "She was wearing a cross.  Did Blake explain what that does to a Vampire?"

            "Yes.  She said it works like a psychic channeling device.  I felt her anger, and it hurt me?"

            "Pretty much."

            "Then, what happened after that?  I felt something. . . Strange.  It was . . . pleasant."

            "That was me," Ruby said.  Reaching into her pocket she extracted something clenched tightly in her fist.  Weiss couldn't see the object beyond the thin chain that extruded from the fist.  

             It clicked.  "Is that . . . ?"

             "Religious objects don't just channel negative emotions," Velvet explained  "They can transmit positive emotions as well, like love or affection."  As she spoke, her eyes flicked over to Ruby who blushed and looked away.

            "I saw how that woman's cross had bothered you, so I took mine off and sandwiched it between my palm and the back of your hand.  It seemed to work.  You stopped looking like you were about to start screaming, at least."

            ". . . Is this, will this cause problems?"  Weiss asked.  "For the pack, I mean. Does this put us at risk of exposure?"

            "No," Velvet said.  "The audience probably thinks you have low blood sugar or something."  She cocked her head.  Unfortunately, however, the woman is currently being chewed out by Coco.  Oh, she's trying to argue the poor thing.  She really has no idea what she's getting into."

            Ruby snorted.  "Don't worry, Weiss, if this crowd isn't bugged by our disappearing act every full moon, they won't care that the Church wife made you dizzy."  Sobering, she said, "Let's call Ren and Nora back in.  I don't know much about Vampires, but you look like you could use some Blood Pudding."

* * *

            Despite what Ruby and Velvet had told her, Weiss had been worried that Coco would be angry with her for what had happened.  To her surprise, the woman's  ire had been directed entirely against the woman and her husband.  "Can't go to fucking couples' counseling?  No.  They bring their crap into my club like it's a fucking soap opera.  Dumbasses can't even . . ."  Weiss had honestly stopped paying attention, so perhaps she could be forgiven for missing Coco's question.  "HEY!  FLEDGLING!" 

            "Yes! Ma'am!" Weiss cried, standing up like a soldier at attention, trying to remember what the Werewolf had asked her.

            "I asked if needed to rest or something?  Were your ears damaged by that banshee?"

            "No.  Ah, no I'm fine," the Fledgling had replied.

            Coco grunted.  "She still good to run with us tomorrow night?" she asked Blake.

            Weiss' sire looked her over before nodding.  "Yes, she is."

            "Good.  Get some rest, Fang Face.  You're gonna need it."

            That had been The pack assembled in the backyard of the house.  Fourteen nude Werewolves and two Vampires dressed in dark running clothes.

            Weiss shifted next to Blake, trying hard not to look at the collection of attractive naked people in front of her.  “How long does this usually tak—”

            _“Ghah!”_

            Weiss spun around.  She couldn’t tell who’d cried out, but soon all the assembled Lukoi were screaming.  Some were curled over, clutching their sides, some spat out bile.  Only a few managed to stay standing.  A scent hit Weiss’ nose, a scent she was now very familiar with. 

            “Ruby!” Weiss shouted, starting forward.

            “No!” Blake shouted, grabbing her. 

            “Let me go!” Weiss shouted.  “Her eyes . . . _Their_ eyes!”

            Their eyes were bleeding.  Ruby reached up, screaming and clawed at her face.  A pair of orbs dropped to the ground and Weiss’ heart fell with them.

            “Look,” Blake said.

            Weiss looked back and saw Ruby, now balanced on her hands and knees look up.  Her eyes were black with golden irises.  And, she was growling.

            “They’re through the worst of it,” Blake said, her voice sounding hollow.

            The scent of blood spiked and Weiss saw that claws were erupting from the fingers of some of her friends.  They slammed these warped fists into the ground. 

           Yang spat out bloody teeth, but new ones sprouted from her gums to take their place.

           Nora clawed at her arms, ripping off swathes of her own skin.  Weiss blanched at the redness beneath it before realizing it wasn’t muscle, but _fur._

Ren, quite unassuming Ren, screamed at the top of his lungs as his face began to split, a black snout pushing its way out.

            Their transformations almost complete, the assembled wolves shook the last of their human skin from their bodies.  Weiss thought for certain she would vomit as drops of blood as fluid struck her.

            The newly transformed Werewolves bent down and began munching away on their former human guises.  Beside her, her mentor squeezed her hand.  “I know, it’s . . . never pleasant to watch.  Oh, looks like your fan has a present for you.”

            “What?” Weiss asked.   The Ruby-wolf lopped over, carrying a hunk of skin in its mouth.

            “Eat it,” Blake said.

            “WHAT?” Weiss asked.

            “It’s a gift, you should eat it,” Blake said, wryly as Yang walked up with a mouthful of her own essence.  The dark-haired Vampire grimaced, but accepted the gift.  “Wolves have a different way of doing things in their beast forms.  Just eat it; raw meat isn’t that different from blood to us.”

            _Raw meat._ Weiss wasn’t exactly jazzed about the idea of eating Ruby’s . . . _shed_ skin.  Still, she took a bite of it.  As with blood, it was simultaneously disgusting and addicting.  She gobbled up big mouthfuls, unable to help herself even as she fought the urge to vomit.  She tried to ignore Blake doing likewise beside her.

            “Why . . .” Weiss panted when she was finished “Why do they do that?”

            Blake shrugged.  “I think because the transformation is so energy-consuming.  They need to feed to replenish what they lost.  Speaking of which,” she said as the wolves began sniffing the air and barking.  “It looks like they’ve got a scent.  Try to keep up.”  Just as she was finishing, the wolves took off into the forest, with Weiss and Blake sprinting to keep up with them.

            Weiss ran as fast as she could, dodging trees and roots as easily and agiley as though she’d been doing this for years.  As easily as the wolves.  She didn’t think about; it was instinct, instinct to run through the night, hunting down prey like an animal.

            She followed her mentor.  Around her, the night was as bright as noon, but the tree and the wolves blocked her view.  She couldn’t see what they were chasing, but she caught the scent of mammals and heard the ahead a herd of animals bounding away.

            Not fast enough.  The smell of blood ripped through the air as animals screamed.  Weiss blacked out for a moment, when she came too, she lifted her head from the neck of a deer, blood dripping from her mouth and the gaping hole in the animal’s neck.  Beside her, the Ruby-wolf looked up from her meal of a foreleg and head-butted her lightly.

* * *

           Ruby followed Yang as they ran through their territory, her feral mind taking in all the smells and sounds of the world around them.  The sounds of insects and small animals and the movements of leaves and branches.  The scent of rain that had just missed them.  The feel of earth beneath her paws.  Her earth.  Their earth.  The pack’s land, its territory.  Home. 

           They smelled no intruders in their domain, but the pack still hunted. Deer.  There were deer ahead.  A herd.  Good hunting.  Good eating afterwards.  Ruby was hungry.  Always so hungry after the change.  Hungrier than usual because she hadn’t eaten all her human flesh before the hunt began.

            Despite her hunger, Ruby was happy.  The pack’s newest member—Weiss—had accepted her gift of food.  That was good.  Weiss was not a wolf.  She was one of the dark ones, the poison ones.  The pack’s enemies.  But so was Blake, and Blake was pack.  Blake was beloved to her sister and special to Ruby.  To the rest of the pack, too.  Weiss was Blake’s spawn.  Weiss was special too.

            This Ruby had known since the last Moon, even when she was screaming, poisoned by Blake to become her spawn, to survive the intruder’s bite.  The changing spawn’s cries called out to Ruby like pack’s howls.  It touched Ruby’s soul.  As Blake did Yang.  As Nora did Ren, and Velvet—the omega—did Coco—the alpha. 

           Ruby tried to make the spawn feel welcome when she’d first awoken, had offered her food she’d prepared herself.  But Yang had forced her away.  Said the dark one wouldn’t want human food.  Ruby had been disappointed.  Then Coco had made her Weiss’ teacher in their second den, their place of work.  The pup had risen to the challenge, had trained the new one in her duties.  Then, Weiss had seen the others as they danced.

           Ruby saw her object of fascination mesmerized by the alpha’s dancing.  Smelled her lust.  Had been aroused herself.  Ruby subdued her, took her away from the temptation before she caused trouble.  But from that moment on, she’d wanted the dark one.  Wanted to offer herself to her new packmate.  Wanted Weiss to pin her, to mount her. Wanted to see and feel her new packmate’s strength of body and will.  Wanted to rut, to mate.  But they couldn’t, Coco had forbidden it.  Yang and Blake, Ruby’s sister and Weiss’ parent, forbade it too.  Not now.  The spawn was too young.  Too dangerous.

           So, Ruby bided her time, rutted with the other females as she always did, enjoying the intimacy, the touch and taste of her packmates.  But she wanted more, wanted the white-haired female.  So, after the change, she’d offered Weiss flesh, her own torn human flesh. A courtship gift.  And Weiss had accepted.  Had devoured her gift with gusto.  It would still be many moons until Coco let them rut, let them mate, but Ruby would wait.  Would court the female until she was matured.  Then the dark one would claim her as Blake did Yang.  And the others, save Coco.  Dark ones were never subordinate.  Even as a wolf, Ruby felt her core heat up at the thought of what the female would do to her in human form. 

            The pack took the herd of deer by surprise.  Deer tried to run.  The pack gave chase, nothing could outrun wolves.  They pounced on them.  Ruby sank her teeth into the side of the beast along with Neon, and it fell.  The beast screamed, but Weiss leaped over them and bit its neck.  Ripped the neck out.  Ruby barked in approval at the kill.  She knew dark one was special. 

           Neon growled at her.  Ruby released her prey’s leg and backed away.  She was low in the pack.  Only Velvet and Penny were lower.  She had helped bring the prey down, but she could not eat until the dominant wolf chose her parts.  Neon ripped off the big, meaty hind leg and settled down munching.  Weiss drank more blood and gnawed on the neck.

Satisfied her dominant was busy, Ruby came up again and took one of the smaller forelegs.  The meat was good.  Not a lot, but the bones would have tasty marrow for her to suck out.  Beside her, Weiss looked up from her meal.  Ruby dropped her leg and head-butted her, congratulated her on the hunt.  The kill.  Her first hunt with the pack.  Her first meal with the pack.

* * *

            Weiss looked around at the scene she found herself in.  The wolves were happily munching away, two or three at a time on various slaughtered deer.  The large creatures ripped off huge chunks of flesh.  Nearby, she saw Blake look up from a deer’s neck, much like she was, and smile.  With the other Vampire’s pitch-dark eyes and blood-stained mouth, it was disturbing.

            “Well done, Weiss,” she said, before going back to her meal.

            Weiss shook her head.  It was still disturbing, but somehow, her mentor’s approval warmed her.  She absently licked her teeth, tasting the blood and the tiny flecks of hair and meat caught between them.  She probably looked as bad as Blake did.

            Sitting back, she took the opportunity to look over her companions in their transformed state.  She hadn’t had the time to when they’d first transformed, and had been too shocked too even if she had.  They weren’t actually wolves, she saw.  Oh, the heads were lupine-looking, that was true, and so was the overall body-shape.  But there were differences.  Apart from the fact that Werewolves apparently respected the Law of Conservation of Mass and were much bigger than any true wolf could be.

            Their forelegs weren’t like a dog’s, she saw.  They looked more like human forearms, and ended with paws that were proportionally too big, more like a bear’s.  Like the human digits had fattened up instead of shrinking into wolf toes.  The hind legs were more like a canine’s but again the feet were wrong, like human feet on their balls with clawed toes.  The tails looked like a wolf or a dog’s, but were too long for their bodies.  Not bushy like a fox’s tail, but similar in ratio to the body size. 

            Weiss shook her head.  Maybe “Wolf” was just the closest thing scared villagers of ancient times could come to describing what her new friends could transform into.

            The pack devoured its meal.  They didn’t rest long, though.  The wolf-beasts got up, sniffing around for something.  Then, they set off in a trot.  Weiss frowned and sniffed the air.  They weren’t hunting anything it seemed, which may have explained the lower speed.  They weren’t doing anything at all, as far as she could tell.

            “We’re on patrol,” Blake called from ahead of her. 

            “Patrol?” Weiss asked.  “You mean patrol of the territory?”

            “Yes,” her mentor answered.  “This is our home; it’s our job to keep it safe from intruders.”

            “Like the one who attacked me?” Weiss asked.

            “Right.  Werewolves are like the police of the supernatural world,” Blake explained, slowing her speed to fall in beside her.  “The pack keeps Beacon safe from any wandering Vampires or Witches or anything—”

            “Witches?” Weiss cut her off.  “There are Witches?”

            Blake smiled.  “Who might want to cause trouble,” she finished.  “And yes, there are Witches.  You didn’t think there were?”  Before Weiss could respond, Blake picked up her speed again.  “Velvet’s one,” she said.

            “What?” Weiss asked.  “Velvet?”

            “You’ll see, eventually,” Blake said.  She sounded like she was smiling.

            Weiss ground her teeth and continued running.

* * *

           The pack had hunted well tonight.  The deer had been tasty.  Ruby had been hungry.  She was  always hungry after the change.  She'd been hungrier than usual because she hadn’t eaten all her human flesh before the hunt began.  Now, they were fed.  Rested.  Now they patrolled their territory.  They smelled no intruders in their domain, but the pack still ran, still hunted for them.  They couldn’t be too careful.  The pack stopped in a clearing near their den. The Moon was setting now.  Soon the sun would be up.  They milled about in the clearing.  Ruby felt itchy as the sky began to lighten in the distance.  Yang padded over to her and licked her.  Ruby dipped her head under her sister’s and rubbed against her.  The older wolf rubbed back.

           “How long until they turn back?” Weiss asked.

           “As soon as the sun rises,” Blake replied, walking over to rub behind Yang’s ears.  “Come here.”

           “Why?” Weiss asked, not obeying her parent.  Her dominant.  Ruby looked back and forth, waiting for the fight.

           “Just come over,” Blake said.

           Weiss frowned but did as she was told.  Ruby yipped in pleasure and walked over to her, reeling up and steadying herself on the spawn’s shoulders.  “Ahh!” Weiss screamed.  “Ruby!”  The Wolf licked the blood from her around her mouth.

* * *

           “Someone’s made a friend,” Blake said. 

           Weiss looked over and saw her mentor kneeling down as Yang licked her cheeks.  The other Vampire was smiling, running one hand on the Werewolf’s neck.

           “Rrrrrrrr!”

           A growl split the air.  Weiss turned and saw a chocolate-furred wolf come up to them.  Coco, Weiss thought.  Ruby whimpered and dropped down.  Coco walked up to her; Ruby lowered her head.  Yang stepped up and made a noise that was not quite a bark, not hostile enough.  Coco snorted and jerked her head back.  The trio of wolves backed away to be with the others.

           Weiss looked at the sky.  “Is it—?”

           The wolves barked and roared in pain.  They stomped and scratched the ground while their heads twisted every which way.  Their bodies shifted and warped beneath their skin.  It was easier to watch this time, but only just.  The wolves heads dipped forward as their sides bulged.  Suddenly, their skins split.  Backs, sides, underbellies.  Human arms limbs forced their way out, ripping open holes, ripping them open wider.

           A gang of moaning, whining, blood-stained humans flopped down onto the grass, the only trace of the pack of wolves were the torn and ruined furs the reborn humans were tangled up in.

           “Come on,” Blake said, rousing Weiss from her musings.  “They’ll sleep for a day or so.  “We need to get them inside . . . and dispose of the evidence,” she said, picking up Yang in her arms.  The dozing blonde cuddling into her mate, neither caring about the blood and slime ruining Blake’s clothes.

           It took a while to get the whole group inside under the light of day (no small feat when lifting Yatsuhashi without super strength).  Much like Yang, Ruby unconsciously cuddling up to her. 

           “Weiss!” Ruby called.  The Fledgling looked up and saw her fellow waitress.  The young Werewolf didn’t look like she usually did. Ruby was wide-eyed and pale.  “You need to come see us.  Pack meeting.  Come on.”

           “What is it,” Weiss asked, getting up and going to her. 

           Ruby swallowed.  “Have you read the news today?” she asked.

           “Yes . . .” Weiss said, rather annoyed.  “I read it this morning.”

           “Did you read anything recently?” Ruby asked.

           “No . . .”

           “Follow me,” Ruby said.  The woman led the Fledgling downstairs.  The stairs led to the livingroom, which opened up into a long, wide hall leading to the kitchen.  Located just outside the livingroom was a long table.  Weiss was surprised to see the entire pack assembled there, gathered around a laptop computer. 

           “What’s going on?” Weiss asked.

           “Take a look for yourself,” Coco said.  She turned around the laptop.

**_BODY OF LOCAL GIRL FOUND IN PARK!_ **

            Weiss looked over the article.  That morning, the body of a local girl had been discovered across town.  Ripped to shreds, the state police thought it was the work of a wild animal, though they couldn’t find any tracks.

            “What . . . what is this?” Weiss asked.

            “This, Coco explained, “is the work of a Vargulf.”

* * *

            James Ironwood was not happy.  Most who knew him would have claimed that was a redundant statement, but at present it was especially true.  Beacon.  That damned Beacon.  They couldn't stay quiet for long.  Sooner or later some manner of ugliness would rear its head from that over-grown slum.  But this was awful even for them.

            “Sir,” Sun, his underling said.  “Do we really have the _jurisdiction_ to get involved in this?” 

            “Yeah” his medical examiner, Neptune, asked.  “I thought they were calling it an animal attack.”

            “Of course we do,” Ironwood said.  "This might have something to do with the psychos running around Vytal," he said.  Over the past couple of months, there had been a string of disappearances.  Sometimes the bodies were never recovered.  Sometimes they were found, drained of blood and ripped to pieces.  They'd dropped off a couple of weeks ago.  The killer seemingly having disappeared without a trace.

          "I don't know, sir," Neptune said.  "This doesn't look like the work of our guy.  The body's pretty mauled, but it's all in one piece.  Also, there was a lot more blood around the crime scene than we usually find."

          "Yeah," Sun said, looking over his friend's shoulder.  "And it doesn't look like there was any attempt to hide the body.  Even the bodies we found, the guy was careful to stash them in the woods or dump them off the docks.  It looks like this victim was just left in the playhouse to be found by anyone who wandered by."  Ironwood bit back a growl as Sun continued.

          Ironwood growled.  "It could be a copycat," he said.  "Or maybe our guy is becoming more arrogant. Maybe his car broke down, and he couldn't load up the body.  Who cares?  The FBI's mission includes investigating significantly violent crimes.  "Does this look 'significantly violent' to either of you?"

          Both men straightened up and replied "Yes, sir." 

          "Then this one is ours until I say otherwise.  Understood?"  The trio entered the elevator.  Ironwood allowed his thoughts to drift back to Beacon.  Beacon and it's damn population of tax-dodging, sex-working fugitives.  Now this.  He wasn't fooled.  This wasn't an animal attack.  It was too vicious.  Too weird for anyplace other than Beacon.  Not for the first time, he fantasized about a bulldozer coming by and wiping the place off the map. 

* * *

            “What’s a Vargulf?” Weiss asked.

            “It’s a Werewolf,” Ruby whispered.  “One that’s . . . lost itself.”

            “What do you mean ‘lost itself?’” Weiss asked.

            “We’re not . . . ah,” Yang said.  “We can—technically—change at other times.  Not just at the Full Moon.”

            “But we _shouldn’t,”_ Arslan said.  “Changing on the Luna Rea, the wrong moon, is the easiest way to destroy ourselves.”

            “It confuses our wolves, the beasts within,” Velvet said.  “You have to understand Weiss, we are normally in balance with our animal sides.  If that balance is disrupted, the wolf will begin to assert itself.”

            “We can do it once or twice without consequence,” Reese said.  “But if we keep doing it . . .”

            “The wolf goes rabid and takes over,” May finished.  “For good.  No changing back.”

            “And all that's left is a monster,” Fox noted.

            Weiss sucked in a breath.  “OK, what do we do about this . . . Vargulf, then?” she asked.

            “If there is a Vargulf, there’s only one thing to do,” Coco said.  “Hunt it down and cut its head off”

            Weiss’ eyes went wide.  “Ki-kill it?  This is a person we’re talking about!”

            “No, it was a person,” Coco snapped.  “Once the transformation is complete . . . Vargulfs don’t hunt for food or territory, Weiss.  They’re blood-thirsty killers that exist only to hunt.  This is a menace to everyone in Beacon and to the secrecy of our world!”

            “Maybe not,” Ruby said.  Coco turned to glare at her.  “It takes some time to fall into the Vargulf state,” she said, slowly.  “Or, so I’ve been told.  It doesn’t happen all at once.”

            “You think we have time?” Coco asked.  Weiss wanted to scream at her for her casual dismissal of Ruby.

            “This appears to be the first attack,” Yatsuhashi said, quietly.  “I expect we would have heard if this was happening before now.”

            “Or else they were just better at hiding the bodies,” Coco grumbled.  She was silent for a moment, brooding.  Then she turned to Velvet.  “If we catch this jerk, can you fix them?” she asked.

            Weiss was confused before she remembered what Blake had said earlier that morning.  Velvet was a witch.  The brunette frowned.  “. . . If it’s still early, then yes, I think I have chance.”

            “That’s not what I’d call convincing argument,” Coco snorted. 

            “I’ll check my weapons,” Arslan said, stone-like.

            “You do that,” Coco said, getting up.  “The rest of you, try to figure out who it is.”  She paused to look at each of them.  “If possible, we’ll try to capture this poor loser alive and heal them,” she said, looking at Velvet, who smiled at her.  “But don’t take unnecessary risks.  Whoever this is, they’re already dying, and I won’t have you risking your own lives, or some innocent human’s, for this fool.  Now get to, you sluts.”

            The group filed out.  Weiss walked near Blake.  "Why did Coco say we have to, to . . . decapitate this Vargulf?” the Fledgling asked.

            “Vargulfs are immortal,” Blake said.  “They’re basically undead.”

            “Like us?” Weiss asked.

            “Not so different,” Blake admitted.  “Except a stake through the heart won’t work; we have to remove the head, or it will recover and hunt again.”

           Weiss was silent at that.  Blake spoke again.  "I don't like it either, Weiss, but I don't see any other choice. Coco's right. If we don't deal with this, then it won't just be a few more dead humans. Sooner or later, people will see the Vargulf and survive; people in authority will see it, will talk about it."  She shook her head. "A hundred years ago, that would've just cost them whatever position they had.  Now?  Everyone has a camcorder built into their phone, and every building has a few dozen more mounted on the walls. Now, people can record the poor soul and prove it exists.  And if they manage to capture it alive, or if some human gets bitten and survives to make it to hospital in time for the next full moon . . ."  Blake shook her head. "We can't let that happen, Weiss; we won't survive it."

           Images of death and terror filled Weiss' head.  Images ofwooden stakes and silver bullets.  She swallowed.  "I understand," she whispered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now we have our first introduction of FBI special agent Ironwood and some of his flunkies. Expect more of them in subsequent episodes.
> 
> The thing with the crosses I kind of stole/extrapolated from BEING HUMAN (the U.K. Version). In that show, having affection for a vampire, simply made them immune to the object you held. I took it one step further.
> 
> Next time: Pyrrha makes her appearance


	4. Episode 4: The Hunt(s) Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hunt for the Vargulf is on! Sort of. You'll see.
> 
> WARNING: The first section is a lemon, if that bugs you, you can skip to the next one. Also, there is a reference to human trafficking at one point (don't worry, the bastard gets his comeuppance).
> 
> P.S. 
> 
> ATTENTION to any members of the Guglielmo family who may be reading this, please don't look for me.

 Coco smiled as she looked down on the pup beneath her.  The small, redheaded  Wolf was tied down, bound to the Ulfric's bedposts by silken bands tied around her wrists and ankles.  Coco was sitting against the smaller woman's breasts, most of her weight supported on her knees. Her submissive packmate whimpered, raising her head to try to lick her shaven crotch.

Ruby struggled, the scent of Coco's arousal exciting her, but the Ulfric kept her womanhood just out of reach of Ruby's lips and tongue.  The young Wolf let her head fall back on the mattress, unable to keep her neck up.  Coco only continued to smile at her efforts.  "Pleeeeeaaaaase . . ." the pup whined.

"No, Ruby," Coco said.  "You've been a bad girl. You're a good person to make sure I don't make the pack kill someone when we don't have to, but you're a bad, bad Wolf to speak out against me in front of the pack like that.  So, I have to punish you.  Now, then," the Ulfric said as she lifted herself up and "walked" down Ruby's body.  "Where should I start first?" She asked.  "With these?"  She grabbed Ruby's breasts and squeezed gently, drawing a moan from her victim. "No," Coco said, letting go of the younger Lukoi's boobs.  "I think here . . ."  Now, the Ulfric reached down and rubbed the younger female's crotch, enjoying the texture of the trimmed hairs against her fingers as she massaged the girl's lower lips. 

Ruby cried out again.

"Yes, I think I will start here," Coco said, slipping her fingers into the tight, warm passage.  Scissoring her fingers apart, she twisted them around, her smile growing wider as the pup cried out in pleasure.  It grew further as Ruby responded to her movements, raising her hips as the Ulfric pushed in deeper, allowing her to penetrate even further into her packmate's sex. 

"Are you enjoying yourself, Ruby?" she asked as she began pumping her fingers in and out of the girl's channel.

"Ye-yes, ma-am," Ruby answered shakily.

"Really?" Coco asked, positioning her thumb to rub her packmate's clit.  This time, all she got was a scream of pleasure.  Satisfied with herself, Coco continued to play Ruby's pussy like master violinist plays her instrument, careful to keep the pup pleasured but frustrated, nowhere near orgasm.

At length, she drew back.  Licking her fingers as her lover moaned beneath her.  "Would you like to cum, Ruby?" she asked, rhetorically.

The poor thing could only whimper in reply. 

Coco grinned.  Climbing back up, she re-positioned her own cunt just above Ruby's head.  "Earn it," she said, lowering herself.

Immediately, despite her own frustration, Ruby attacked Coco's mound.  The Ulfric bit back a moan as the pup's lips and tongue serviced her, teething her labia, sucking her clit, licking every inch of her passage.  

Ruby was one of the most submissive of the pack.  And one of the sweetest.  While all her packmates were considerate lovers, none of them enjoyed the act of giving pleasure nearly so much as Ruby.  Nothing seemed to make the little Wolf happier than licking another female's pussy or sucking her nipples or kissing and licking every inch her partner would let her.  Unsurprisingly, she gotten to be very good at cunnilings.

"Ghah!"  Despite herself, a cry of pleasure escaped Coco's lips.  To make up for it, she gently ground herself further into Ruby's eager mouth.  Ruby replied in kind, pushing her mouth forward, lapping up every available drop of moisture from her Ulfric's passage.  Realizing the end was coming and wanting to make it as good as possible, she withdrew her tongue from the canal and captured Coco's nub between her teeth.  She pinched it weird her jaws, sucking away while her tongue lashed against the tiny piece of flesh.

Coco cried--no, _roared_ as she came, drenching Ruby's face despite the girl's attempts to swallow it all.  Coco stretched her hands out and supported herself on the wall, shaking from the effects of her orgasm.  Especially as Ruby continued to lick, trying to drink up all the fluid she could.

And when it was Ruby's turn to be serviced?  She remained just as unaggressive, laying back and letting her partner have her way with her, following whatever instructions she was given.

Coco draped her body over the smaller girl's one returning to her core.  The other came up and  cupped a breast.  The Ulfric's mouth attached to the second, suckling at the treat like a child sucks a lollypop.  Ruby thrashed beneath her, the pup's earlier arousal having barely subsided.  Coco growled in satisfaction as her packmate came under the affect of her touch.

Reclining to the side, Coco allowed herself a moment of rest and reflection.  Did their newest Garm have any idea just how lucky she was the other waitress wanted her?  Not just as a partner or a packmate  but as a bitch?

Ruby had collapsed against the mattress.  She was dimly aware of Coco untying the chords and throwing the lightest of the bedsheets on her.  She didn't need the extra warmth, but Ruby was one of those people who wasn't really comfortable sleeping without any cover.  "Sleep tight, kiddo," her Ulfric said, before leaning down and kissing her brow.

Ruby mumbled in reply.  It didn't overly bother the pup that Coco wasn't staying by her (although she might come back later; it was, after all her bed).  They were Lukoi, not humans; Coco was a packmate, not a _mate._ The two were like sisters, quasi-incest aside, just like they were with the rest of the pack (except Yang who WAS Ruby's sister and thus as desirable as the boys) and as such, they were equally comfortable sleeping beside one another as not. 

Coco paused in the doorway as she closed the resting pup off from the rest of the house.  Looking at the sexy yet innocent form on the bed, she shook her head and wondered again if Weiss knew what a treasure she'd taken when she stole Ruby's heart.

* * *

"His name is Roman Torchwick," Ozpin said.  The grey-haired man placed a manila folder on the table and pushed it towards the redheaded young woman sitting across from him.  They sat in a richly furnished office, complete with dark furniture, shelves of books, cabinets of antiques, and exotic rugs.  Imposing figures looked down on them from gilded frames, and an old globe sat in one corner of the office.  A large window, the drapes drawn back, sat behind Ozpin, illuminating the room.

"We have a file on him?" Pyrrha asked, flipping it open.  In her prim clothes and tied-back ponytail, she looked like a private school student speaking to the headmaster. 

"He's very old, and very . . . active," Ozpin said.  "He has a history of criminal activity, stretching back approximately a hundred and fifty years."

"That would include his Human life," Pyrrha said, examining the birthdate in the file.  It contained several pictures of the man himself, mostly black-and-white, in an assortment of different outfits.

"Indeed," Ozpin said, sipping his coffee.  "As a Human, he worked as "security" for the British East India Company, arguably the most successful drug cartel in history; he is in fact a veteran of the Opium Wars.  He was sired as a Vampire shortly after his return to the London. He disappeared for a time after that, reappearing in Chicago in 1926, working as a freelancer for various crime families until Capone rose to the top, after which he worked for him exclusively until Capone's death in 1947.  Once again, he disappeared, staying off the radar until 1975, when he joined the DeMeo Crew under the identity of Joseph Guglielmo."

"I'm not familiar with that group," Pyrrha said.

"They served the Gambino Family of New York; their leader, Roy DeMeo was guilty of all manner of criminal activity: racketeering, loan-sharking, money laundering, embezzlement, as well as the sale of hardcore pornography which was illegal at the time; with his crew, he ran a highly successful car theft ring and cocaine smuggling operation, but they were most well-known for their work as assassins."

"Vampires have worked as assassins before," Pyrrha noted, flipping the page, she studied the picture.  It showed five men dressed casually gathered around a pool table. 

"It is a lucrative profession for their abilities," Ozpin acknowledged.  "And that's ignoring the easy access to blood it provides them.  The DeMeo Crew was particularly vicious.  The police proved they managed to kill seventy-five people, though DeMeo boasted of killing double that number.  It's impossible to prove given their preferred method of . . . disposing of the bodies."

"Slicing them up," Pyrrha said, examining the report.  "To keep them from rising as Vampires or Ghouls."

"It's generally accepted that DeMeo developed the practice of his own accord; he was once a butcher's apprentice," Ozpin said.  Sipping his coffee, he seemed to ignore the way his associate shuddered at the description.  Pyrrha had seen many unpleasant things in her life, but she was still, and the breadth of Human evil hadn't yet lost its capacity to surprise and disgust her. "But yes, it was likely that Roman eagerly approved of those methods.  In fact, I believe he still does.  Have you heard of the events occurring in the city of Vytal, Maine?

"Yes, sir," she replied.  "I'd hoped we were already looking into it.  You believe Torchwick is involved?" 

"We are, and yes, I do.  The 'disposal methods' are unpleasantly like DeMeo's."  Ozpin drew another folder out of his desk and slid it over to her.  "Unfortunately, things may have spilled over into the unincorporated town called Beacon; there was an attack the other night, and now the FBI are becoming unpleasantly involved in affairs in which they have no business.  I want you to get involved with the investigation.  You have credentials as a biologist, so I'm sure that you can help with their supposed 'animal attack.'  Inside the folder you'll find a ticket to Vytal International Airport for tonight.  I'm afraid you won't be able to do much on-the-ground work until tomorrow.  So, I suggest you familiarize yourself with the relevant materials of the case." 

"Yes, sir," Pyrrha said, picking up the files.  She was familiar enough with Ozpin to know when the conversation was over.  She left the room without another word. 

Ozpin turned in his chair looking out the window.  White clouds drifted in a blue sky.  He wondered if he was making the right choice, sending in someone so young and inexperienced, but he had no choice, really.  The older and more experienced of their fellows were too quick to judge, to escalate situations that ought to be left alone.  But had it been right to trust her with . . . nothing?

The grey-haired man sipped his coffee, tasting nothing as he stewed in his own troubled thoughts.

* * *

Ironwood pushed open the doors of the small building that served as the State Police's headquarters in Beacon.  The uniformed men and women looked up at the well-dressed man and his underlings as they approached the Captain's office.    "Captain Port," he said.

"James!" the older man said.  The captain had a gut the size of a well-fed pig and a well-groomed mustache that combined with his styled hair made his head look more like an aging Confederate veteran rather than an active police officer.  He was smiling.  He was always smiling, Ironwood thought. "A pleasure to see you old boy!  How long has it been?"

"A few months, I should think," Ironwood replied.  "And it's Special Agent Ironwood, Captain.  This isn't a social call."

"Of course, James, of course."  Ironwood didn't know whether Port's continued insistence on using his personal name was a power struggle or an attempt to look dumber than he was, or if the local Leo really was that dumb.  "What brings you down here?"

"Investigating a possible connection between your recent animal killing and my serial killer," the agent said.

"Our medical staff ruled it an accidental killing," Port said, casually.  "We're organizing a hunt for the animal that did it.  Probably rapid, you know."

"No coroner works that fast," Ironwood said, an edge creeping into his voice.

"Oh, we're waiting on toxicology, of course," Port replied.  "But from what our initial findings suggest, it's just a wolf or a bear."

"Well, if your findings aren't finished, I'm sure you won't mind if Dr. Vasilias takes a look at the body," Ironwood said.

Port sighed.  "I suppose I can't stop you.  You'll also want to look at the crime scene photos and whatnot, of course?"

"And the crime scene itself," Ironwood replied.  "We'll also need all the information you have on the victim.  Friends, relatives, how she spend her time and money."

"The usual information," Port said.

"Yes, the usual information," Ironwood replied.

"It sounds like you'll be in town for a while," Port offered.

"No more than a day or two, if it turns out to just be an animal attack," Ironwood said, ignoring the looks Sun and Neptune shared.  The "Hey, maybe we'll get the chance to have some fun," looks.  If those two idiots wanted to spend their time and money at that over-hyped whorehouse, or whatever the heck it was Adel was doing in that so-called "club" of her's. it wasn't his problem.  If he was lucky, they'd actually find him an excuse to raid the place.  "Of course, if it turns out to be more than that, we may be here a little while longer."

Port nodded.  "Of course."  Pushing a button on his desk, he asked, "Officer Arc, please come to my office."

While this was going on, another conversation took place.  May and Reese sat in the back of the station dealing with a certain blonde-haired young patrol man.  "Ah, is this one of, you know, _you're_ things?" the man--boy, really--asked.

May rolled her eyes.  "You think we're here because we like the coffee, Jaune?  Just get us a copy of the autopsy report."

"That might be a little difficult," Reese said.  "Look who's sitting in the Captain's office."

The intercom cracked to life.  _"Officer Arc, please come to my office."_

 Jaune gulped.  "Go," May said.  "We'll talk later."

"Right.  Sorry, I couldn't be more help.  Eh, ma'ams.  I'll have something for you, I promise."  Picking up the clipboard he was carrying, purely a disguise, he walked off to join his superior and their guests.

The pair watched him go.  Reese shook her head.  "Someone needs to buy that boy a lap dance."  May didn't reply.  "I guess you're not volunteering."

The pink-haired Wolf was less than amused by her partner's comments.  She was staring at the figures speaking with Captain.  She squeezed her knuckles white.  "This just got a whole lot harder."

* * *

_"A source in the police department believes the murders are being committed by a copy-cat imitating the crimes of New York assassin Roy DeMeo.  Known for his custom of carving up his victims, DeMeo is believed to have killed as many as 200 people. . ."_

The reporter had more to say, but Roman stopped listening after that. Muting the TV, he fetched himself a large bottle of scotch, which he drank from.  He wondered what irritated him more: being accused of being a copycat or the misinformation about his old boss.  Making Roy out to be some kind of slasher movie villain.  Idiots.  Roy had _shot_ people to kill them, one bullet to the head.  The definition of a quick, clean death.  Carving them up was something the whole crew had done--and that was another mistake, making it sound like Roy had done it all himself-- _after_ the victim was dead.  It wasn't about fetishes or anything.  Honestly, it was kind of tedious. 

Still was tedious, he thought, taking another long squig from his brew, again a drink more appropriate for beer than scotch.  Ah, the advantages of Vampiric metabolism.  At least now he didn't have to pretend to be a mere human; no spectators.  He also knew better than to dump the bodies in the dumpsters; made finding them too easy, once folks were on to him.  Roy hadn't minded people knowing, liked the extra touch it gave their rep amongst the people who knew them, who paid them, but Torchwick preferred to fly under the radar; he wasn't trying to send a message to anyone.  He just wanted to eat. 

Not to say that those days were all bad, of course.  Running with the DeMeo Crew had provided him with a good, steady source of blood.  The others had mocked him for his apparent obsession with the stuff, even nicknamed him "Dracula."  Roy hadn't though, since he knew what Roman really was.  Occasionally made use of Roman's more . . . unique talents.  It had been a good deal for both of them.  Maybe better for Roman because he got something other than blood and cash out of it.  He learned from Roy.  The Vampire chuckled.  Learned!  Him!  He was a hundred and forty years old at the time, and this Human whose barely more than a child could still teach him a thing or two about killing and stealing. Roman got wistful occasionally and wished he had sired his "cousin" as a Vampire.  Most of the time though, he was glad he hadn't considering how fast Roy had turned on Chris.  Of course, that was after the idiot had almost started a war with the Cubans.  Still, if Roy had been so quick to get rid of the boy who idolized him, how safe would Roman really be from his own Fledgling?  Roman didn't like it when he wasn't the most ruthless person in the room, especially when the other guy was a Vamp, too.

Which was probably why the past few weeks had been so unpleasant, he thought glumly, taking an extra large gulp.  The burn and buzz of alcohol helping to distract him at least a little.  Neo had come back into his life, the little monster.  Everytime he saw her, he was reminded of that day a hundred plus years ago he had seen her on the street, begging like an orphan.  He'd only thought of the money Madam Sable would pay him when he delivered her; Madam Sable was always appreciative when Roman supplied her with a new girl.  So, he strolled up in his uniform and offered to take her some place warm for the night.  This time, though, he had severely misjudged his merchandise.  The diminutive woman--stupid Victorian dresses had covered her chest, at least with kids these days, you _knew_ whether or not they were really kids--had yanked him into an alley with surprising force and before he had the chance to strike back was ripping his throat out.

He only survived because he took her by surprise with his cane.  Vampires had a high pain tolerance, but a pistol shot to the stomach still gets their attention (Roman regretted he couldn't carry it around publicly anymore).  Dazed and desperate, he disappeared back into the crowd, crying out for a doctor, a coach, anything, before collapsing on the sidewalk.  A day or so later, he awoke in the morgue; the mortician was his first victim.  Neo found him later.  Whether they liked it or not, she was his sire; she'd always be able to find him.  The pair first encounter had engendered no fondness between them, but Neo was a traditionalist, and had taken him on as a student.  Roman flattered himself that he did well.  They parted ways within a year, but she occasionally tracked him down again and made use of his talents, on the rare occasion her own were insufficient.

 His phone rang.  Torchwick scowled at it.  The only reason it would ring was that one of _them_ was calling.  If he was lucky, it would be Neo.  And didn't that just tell you had downhill his life had gone?  "Hello?" he asked, flipping open the burner.

"Roman . . ." a smooth, feminine voice answered.  Not Neo's.  "So good to hear from you.  I see you're watching the news."

The Vampire scowled, clicking the OFF button on the remote.  He should have done that the minute she called.  Damn woman was a Witch or a psychic or something.  "What about it?" he asked.

"You really do need to learn to be more . . . subtle."

Roman swallowed.  "You told me to get all the blood I could.  I did as you ordered.  I'm killing three times as often."

"You've attracted too much attention, Roman" the voice purred.  "We need to leave town for a while."

"This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that Were kill in Beacon would it?"

"Now, now Roman.  _That_ would be telling . . ." 

Roman had seen war.  His whole life was about getting in and out of one scrape or another.  And, he'd been a Vampire for a hundred and fifty years, survived dangers that made his experiences in China seem like a playground fight.  He was reasonably confident in his ability to take care of himself.  But, as he listened to the voice coming from the other end of the phone, he shivered.

* * *

"You seriously mean we found NOTHING all day?" Coco growled.  She was sitting in the living room, in the center of the couch.  Fox and Arslan sat beside her.  The others all sat in chairs or on the floor or stood nearby.  Weiss stood awkwardly.  Yang had plopped down into a chair, and Blake was seated in her lap.  The Fledgling couldn't shake the feeling that sitting was inappropriate right now, so she stood beside them, with her hands behind her as she had been taught. 

 "We found a certain team of feds sneaking around," May muttered.

"Ironwood and his friends," Reese explained.  "Which means they'll probably find an excuse to pay the club a visit in tonight or in the near future."

Yang snorted.  "Sun and Neptune will be at the door tonight.  They have all the excuse they need in the pants."

Fox sighed.  "The police destroyed the scent of the attacker, and there wasn't anything left visually either, or so I'm told."

Yatsuhashi nodded.  "All we saw were the footprints the newspaper reported, and signs of a chase.  We tried to follow where the chase began, but got no further than the police did."

"Makes you wonder if this really was a random attack," Coco muttered.

"You think they did this on purpose?" Weiss blurted out.  Everyone else turned to her.  "That is--I mean.  I apologize for interrupting, but--"

"Werewolves are just people, Baby Vamp," Coco said.  "Super-powered, long-lived, extremely perverted people, but beyond all that we're not so different."

"Sometimes Werewolves go bad," Arslan said.  "They lose their connection to their Humanity and chose to act as rabid beasts even in Human form."

"Or they're just psychopaths," May said.  "That happens to us too.  Werewolf serial killers."

"Doesn't change the fact that we still gotta find this jerk," Coco said.  "We can figure out how guilty or innocent they are or aren't after that."  The Ulfric sighed and looked down at Velvet.  The . . . _Witch_ sat on the floor, leaning against Coco's legs.  It was the most servile thing Weiss had ever seen, but Velvet looked comfortable,   _happy_ even.  And despite the subserviant position, she looked up to meet Coco's eyes without a trace of fear.  "Velv . . .  I hate to ask, but do you think you could . . .?"

"You want me to perform a spell of divination to learn more about our 'guest?'" she asked.

"Can you?" Coco asked.  "I wouldn't ask if we didn't have to, but we need to find this jerk before they attack again or Ironwood and his performing monkeys notice anything that gives them a reason to stick around any longer than they will already.

"Preferably before the next Full Moon rises," Arslan said, lowly.  Coco spared her a glance, but the Bolverk responded with a look of her own.  She still looked away before Coco did.

Velvet thought.  "I'll need to check my notebook," she said.  "I think I know a spell that will work, but there's one problem.  One of the ingredients."

"What?  Do we have to import some super-illegal mushroom from Columbia or something?" Yang asked.  Weiss turned to stare at her.  What?

"No," Velvet replied, unfazed by the blonde's question.  "But I will need access to the victim's body."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, sorry if this chapter seems like it's just jogging in place. It's all important for later on, groundwork for later chapters, setting the pieces in place for stuff that'll happen in the next few chapters. But, yeah, the investigation is going to be kind of slow. Then again, what can you expect? It's the day after the crime, and the FBI, the State Police, and soon a third (and possibly a fourth) interested party are all stomping around and going over the crime scene with a fine-toothed comb? This is more of a mystery/drama story than it is an action one. So, folks are gonna spin their wheels, chase red herrings, and come to the wrong conclusions before the (hopefully) big, epic final fight with the bad guy.


	5. Episode 5: Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our first encounter with Witchcraft! Beware: Magic in this universe is NOT the bright and shiny stuff you see in HARRY POTTER or ERIGON. It's primal and potent and not something you use to fold your socks. This is, if anything, more like the magic of GRIMM, or (of course) HEMLOCK GROVE, and even then I don't know if either ever went this nasty.
> 
> READER DISCRETION ADVIZED: This chapter contains heavy drinking, the mention of drug use, minor cannibalism, desecration of a corpse (maybe), large amounts of graphic sex, intentionally misquoting the Bible, patricide, and mentions of past rape and abuse. All aboard the angst train.

“What am I doing here?” Weiss asked.

“Geez, Weiss, kind of a heavy question, don’t you think?” Yang said. She was with Blake, Ruby, Velvet, and Yatsuhashi. The five were sitting in Yatsu's minivan. Appropriate for his size, it was a larger than average vehicle. Weiss sat next to her Sire in the back; Yang on the dark-haired Vampire's other side. Ruby and Velvet were in the middle seats, while Yatsu was behind the wheel. The car was off, though it was only by looking up at the overhead lights that Weiss could tell. Her new condition had improved her senses such that the darkness she sat in was no dimmer than early morning. And despite the dropping temperatures, as autumn turned into winter, she didn't feel significantly cooler than normal.

The Blonde on Blake's other side continued. "I mean what are any of us doing here? Is it chance? Is it Destiny? What are the consequences of our actions; if a butterfly's wings can start a hurricane, what does our chomping through the deer population each month do?"

Ruby jumped in. "What if we ate a deer who's great great granddeer was going to eat a bug that would've eaten a snake that would've eaten a fish that could've evolved into a new mammal?"

"What kind of bug eats a snake?" Weiss shouted. Given what she'd discovered over the past month, snake-eating Arthropods weren't outside of the realm of possibility.

"I don't know; I was binging _Primeval: New World_ the other night with May and Reese. Ask them."

"I told you Canadian TV was bad for you," her sister remarked.

The two sister engaged in a protracted argument over the benefits of international television.  As they did so, Weiss found her eyes drawn to Ruby's neck.  She felt a sharp pain.  Looking down, she saw Blake dig was digging her nails into her leg, frowning.  TUriah back, Weiss realized she'd been leaning forward unconsciously.  Towards Ruby's neck.

"I mean what am I doing here, with you all?" she said, trying to get the conversation back on track (and cover her loss of control).  She heard Yang open her mouth "at night, outside the police station?"

Blake explained to her. "You're here to watch Velvet perform magic."

"I am?" Weiss asked. "Is that a good idea? I mean, I don't want to sound ungrateful, but I'm . . ."

"A baby vamp with low impulse control?" Yang asked.

"Like yours is any better?" Blake teased her bitch.  "How many months did it take you to stop jumping me in the dressing room every night after I finished a dance?"

"Well, yes," Weiss admitted, fighting a blush at the thought of what Blake was implying. "It doesn't seem like a good idea to take me out here just to show me magic," even though she was excited at the idea.

"We're not," Yatsu interrupted. "We're taking you here to show you why Coco was so reluctant to authorize this. Magic is . . . costly," he said.  "More so popular culture would have you believe."

"What do you mean?" Weiss asked.

"You're gonna find out soon, Weiss," Ruby said, opening her door. "It's time."

The group trooped across the streets, stopping at the door of the darkened brick building.  Weiss thought she'd heard somewhere that the building hadn't always been the office of the State Police. It had been something else once, but she couldn't remember what.  Velvet approached the door and knocked twice. Then once more. Weiss heard noises from inside the building. The sound of feet, someone knocking into something, muted cursing, then the door being unlocked. It opened to reveal a young man, blonde, wearing a police uniform. His nametag read Arc. "Good evening, Jaune," Velvet said, politely.

"Hi," he said, looking them over, his eyes caught on Weiss. "Hi. Uh, I'm sorry, have we met?"

"I don't think so," Weiss said.

"This is Weiss," Blake supplied.

"Oh, right," Jaune said, nodding. "I'm Officer Jaune Arc, at your service."

"Flirt at the club, Jauney-boy," Yang said. "We have work to do."

Jaune blushed, and again, Blake took hold of Weiss' hand and squeezed it.  After what had happened in the car, the Feldgling couldn't blame her.  To Weiss' surprise, however, Ruby grabbed her other one.

Jaune stepped back the group filed in after him. Jaune, in the lead, used a flashlight to navigate the building. The others followed behind him. Weiss was a little distracted by the smells of the place. They lingered like ghosts of scents. The most potent was coffee. Lots of it, but there were others; as they passed by desks, Weiss smelled men's aftershave and people's deodorant. There were other scents too, too buried or too old to make out. It was enough to make her scowl. Beside her, the others rubbed their noses and frowned, suffering from the same problem. Only the Human in their company was immune to the stench.

Things improved when Jaune led them into the morgue. It was younger than the rest of the building, built in the back. The place was sterile, cleaned well with chemicals to keep contagions and contaminants contained. The was only the faint lingering odor of bleach. Still unpleasant, but manageable. Jaune checked something written on his hand and opened one of the doors, pulling out the body. It was the dead girl.

"I'll be in the usual spot," Jaune said.

"Thank you," Velvet said, as set her bag down beside the body and opened it.

He walked out, leaving them alone in the room with the corpse. After a moment, Weiss asked. "What was that? Does he . . . does know?"

"Sort of," Ruby said.

"Not really," Yang replied.

"The other residents of Beacon . . . they know something's up with us," Blake said. "They don't talk about it, and we don't show them, but we can't shut down every full moon and expect people not to notice."

"They have respected our privacy as we have respected their's," Yatsuhashi said. "They may suspect us of being Werewolves, but they do not speak of it to us."

"But Port and Jaune and a few others know what we do for the town," Ruby said. "They know there's weird stuff out there they can't touch, so they let us do it. They give us access to the stuff we need, like right now."

This brought Weiss' attention back to the body on the slab, an she wished it hadn't. "What are you doing?" she screamed.

Velvet paused in the act of removing one of the victim's eyes. Looking up, she answered. "I'm getting the last ingredient I need for the spell."

"You're not going to . . . ?"

"Yatsu told you," Velvet said, getting back to the work of what she was doing. "Magic isn't as bright and shiny as the movies would make you believe. It's . . . messy."

Placing the . . . organ in a jar containing a powdered mixture, Velvet set down her knife. Then, she withdrew a bottle of whiskey from her bag. Openning it, the timid girl threw back the bottle taking a large swig of it.

"Is that OK?" Weiss asked. She understood Werewolves had a better tolerance for alcohol than Humans, but she'd never seen Velvet drink at all, so this much at once was a surprise.

The Witch smiled. "Well enough. I'm performing a Divination spell so I have to be in an alternated state of mind." She took another drink.

"Really?" Weiss asked.

"Think about it," Ruby said. "She's basically asking for a vision of what happened; that means opening her mind up to the raw power of the universe and asking it to just . . . Project an image or something into her brain."

"Not to mention it'll probably be gorey as all heck," Yang said, sounding less amused than normal. "Does that sound like something you want to do sober?"

Velvet set the bottle down and leaned against the slab, a little shakey. "It's why so many religious rituals use hallucinogens as part of an attempt to enter a higher plane of existence. Traditional Native American shamans still use peyote, and people all over the world use mushrooms . . . burn incense made of special plants . . ." she said. "Opium became popular among British and Chinese practitioners in the nineteenth, though a lot of modern Witches like to use marijuana. I prefer alcohol; it's easier to control . . . and legal . . . But Ruby's right. Whatever the drugs do to my system . . . not entering an altered state of mind when I do this . . . will be worse."

The bottle was half empty now. Velvet set it down and took a third tool out of her bag, a kind of pestle, like would be used by old-fashioned herbalists. She dropped it, and fumbled with it as she went to pick it up. Weiss was worried, but Ruby squeezed her hand as Yatsuhashi went over to help her. "It'll be all right," the redhead said.

Yatsu helped Velvet get the small bludgeon into her hands, before she took it and began whispering words over the jar of powder and the eye. They sounded like a poem or a sound, a chant. They weren't Latin, or any language or accent she readily recognized. As she was chanting, she took the object and began pounding the eye with a sickening sound. Weiss cringed and looked away. The smell cut through the scent of bleach, and the Fledgling thought she would gag . . . or attack someone. Ruby didn't shy away as she held the girl's hand harder, and her Sire took her free hand again, letting her squeeze that one too.

Velvet stopped pounding but kept chanting, and Weiss heard the sound of liquid splashing. She's pouring the rest of the bottle in, Weiss thought. Morbid curiosity compelled her to look, and she saw Velvet lift the concoction up, like an offering, still chanting. Then she brought it down, and Weiss turned away before Velvet down the horrid brew.

"Huh . . . huh . . ." Velvet panted. "Huh . . . huh . . . Huh, huh, huh Ah! Huh, huh, Ah! Huh, huh, huh. . ." Faster now, as though she was running. Weiss had to look back. Velvet had an alien look on her face as though she wasn't seeing them. She was gripping the slab hard now. Her head jerked side to side. She made small cries of fear, before "AH! AAAAAAHHHHH!" Velvet threw herself back from the slab. Yatsu caught her as he flayled around, screaming in terror. She's reliving it, Weiss realized. She's reliving this poor girl's death. Weiss felt ashamed of her own weakness. Velvet had actually done the gorey work, had drunk that . . . potion, and now was experiencing all the pain and terror this mutitlated body had experienced to help a girl she didn't know get justice. To keep the pack and the town safe.

Eventually, it stopped and Velvet lay in Yatsu's arms, panting. "It's, it's done," she said. "Let's go." Yatsu helped her pack up her bag. Yang held the door open and let the group file out. "Wait," Velvet said. "I'm forgetting . . . something . . . we need . . . a piece of her . . . her . . ." The inebriated Werewolf slapped her chest.

"Her heart," Yatsu supplied, gently.

"I'll get it," Ruby said, making a face.

"Are you sure?" Weiss asked.

"Trust me," she said. Yatsu held Velvet's bag for her while she rooted around in it. She took out a pair of scissors and a pair of tweezers. The small redhead went over to the body and donned latex gloves. Taking a breath, she reached into the cavity that had once been the girl's stomach. She removed a piece of flesh and brought it back to them. Blushing a little, she said, "I forgot the jar."

"Happens," Velvet said, and reached into the bag, swatting helping hands away to pull out a mini-gin bottle. Ruby stuck the scissors (wrapped in gloves) back in the bag and unscrewed the lid, depositing her tiny slice of organ into it.

"What about the body?" Weiss asked.

"Jaune will take care of it," Yang said. "She wasn't getting an open casket anyway."

The officer was in the hall waiting for them. He offered Velvet a bottle of water, which she accepted with thanks. He made a face. "We're the ones who should be thanking you," he said, quietly.

The group shuffled out of the building and back to the car. Yatsu helped Velvet back into her seat, with Ruby helping him buckle her in. It was only now that Weiss remembered a question she'd thought earlier and, desperate for something academic and clinical, asked "Ruby? How did you know so much about what Velvet's magic?"

"I asked her," Ruby said, shrugging.

* * *

Back at the house, Velvet gave her report to Coco. "She didn't get a good look at the creature, but it was dark-furred, on four legs, and I think it was bigger than a real wolf," Velvet said, from her place in Coco's lap. Unlike before, she was on the couch; Coco had practically dragged her onto it and rested her head in the Ulrfic's lap. Coco was gently brushing the Witch-Lukoi's hair while Yatsu had sat down and spread her legs across his lap.

"At least now we're sure," the Ulfric said, unhappily.

"Ruby took some of the girl's heart," Velvet elaborated, Werewolf physiology sobering her up in record speeds. "I can use it to rig up a tracking spell.  Lead us directly to the whoever our Vargulf is."

"After all that?" Weiss blurted unable to contain herself.

Velvet smiled. "I won't be using Divination. No more visions for awhile."

"No more anything for awhile," Coco corrected. "Aside from . . ." she paused and looked in the Fledgling's direction. "Weiss is right; you need to rest."

"We're gonna help with that," Yang said, casually.

Blake escorted Weiss to her room with a big bowl of blood pudding. "You should probably stay here for the rest of the night," she said.

"Why?" Weiss asked, a little annoyed. She really didn't want to be along right now.

"Because Velvet needs the pack right now, and you're not ready for that," Blake snapped.

"You mean . . . you're going to--after all that?" Weiss asked, shocked.

Blake smiled. "Not all magic is gore and cannibalism. Have you ever heard love and death are the two great themes of poetry?"

"No."

"I've always thought that they were the great themes of all art," Blake said. "Magic is just another art. Velvet's in this mess because of death. Now, we're going to try love."

* * *

 Coco gently, more gently than Weiss could have believed if she were there, kissed Velvet. "You ready?" she asked. She knew this could help her. The pack's Vargamor could heal herself or others with sex, both physically and emotionally. It was gift she had shared with the pack many times in the past, but she wouldn't pressure her into it if Velvet was too tired of upset to do it.

Velvet smiled threw her tears. "Yes. Please, get these memories out of me . . . If I don't . . ." She didn't need to elaborate. What Velvet had gone through would give anyone nightmares for years. And if the spell was still active in her . . .

Coco kissed her again. "We understand, Cottontail." Then she reached down and tugged up the hem of Velvet's shirt. Yatsuhashi helped her undress her. The rest of the pack, meanwhile, began stripping. Not in the slow, teasing way they did for clients, though some were faster than others. There was no tease here. No fantasy. Only the sure, eager promise of love.

Coco got Velvet first, drawing her into an embrace. Bare breasts mashed against each other as the two kissed. Nipples teased each other as Coco's tongue stoked Velvet's. Velvet whispered in Irish as Coco laid her down on the couch. "Tá grá Leighis." The Ulfric knew it meant "Love is Healing." The mantra to prepare her for what was to come. Odd given how rooted this magic was in Asian culture.

The Ulfric pressed her breasts against her lover's knees and slowly dragged herself up Velvet's body. She kissed her shaven crotch, her waist, her belly, the valley of her breasts, her throat, her lips. She dragged her breasts up her knees, thighs, and torso up to Velvet's own generous breasts, pierced nipples teasing whole ones. The stud of her pussy rubbed against Velvet's engorged lower lips.  The pair kissed again, running her hands up Velvet's sides and rubbing her own torso against hers.  The Ulfric settled herself between her lover's legs, grinding their sexes together.  Velvet cooed under her.  Coco grinned at the submissive sound, grinding harder.  Coco nibbled her neck and shoulder.  Reaching down, she placed her hand on her lover's groin, her thumb sliding down to massage the other woman's clit.

Velvet moaned as she came.  Coco riding it out before stopping.  Ignoring her own need, the Ulfric brought her hand up and licked her thumb.  Then she kissed Velvet, stroking her cheek.  "Better?" she asked.

"Thank you," Velvet whispered. 

Coco kissed her again and got up.  Trying to keep her legs from shaking she leaned back against the arm of the couch.  Not unsurprisingly, she felt another body against her back.  Fox's arms wrapped around her middle.  Despite her need she still felt like teasing and rubber her rump against his hard member as she settled herself in to watch.

Velvet was picked up by Yatsuhashi.  He brought her up to his mouth and mashed his lips against hers.  Velvet moaned.  She was in need of comfort from her magic, but she was also a Werewolf, and like many of her kind, she enjoyed this rougher play.  It satisfied her high stamina and pleased her on an instinctive level.  As a submissive, it would have confused her wolf half if her mate didn't assert superiority in their mating, such as when Yatsu brought her down and lowered her to her hands and knees.  A more dominant female might have fought to be put into this position, may have forced him into a different one, but Velvet was--to use a mundane wolf term, an Omega.  So she was happy to accept this position, happy when she felt Yatsu stick his face into her cunt and smell her pheromones and lick the length of her dripping slit.  Happier still when he put his hands on her hips and pushed into her.  Velvet moaned as her packmate thrust in and out of her, his uncommonly large manhood plowing in and out of her pussy.  Each thrust accompanied by a loud SMACK! as his pelvis collided with her buttocks.  His balls slapping her pussy lips.  Yatsu gathered some of her hair into his hand and pulled back on it gently, slowly drawing her head up.  Delicately, he positioned her head for kisses on her cheek, jaw, and lips.  Velvet cried in joy.  This was lovemaking to a submissive Lukoi.  Feeling the strength of her packmates, knowing they had claimed her and would use that strength to protect her yet holding it back just enough to keep from hurting her.  She cried again and released a second time as he pushed her head down again, keeping her butt up in the air as he sped up his thrusts, grunting.  Yatsu cried out too as he released into her.  This was something else that pleased female Werewolves when they mated with males; Yatsu was a strong Lukoi; any children he sired in her would be likely as strong.  She was on the pill, of course, but Werewolves had a  strong metabolism.  It wasn't always enough. 

Yatsu kissed her again before pulling out, leaving her with her hindquarters sticking in the air like a bitch in heat, semen leaking from her sex.  She whined as she felt two packmates approach her.  Blake and Yang.  Yang peppered kisses along her back, shoulders, and neck, while Blake gently bit her butt and hips, before moving onto her leaking slit . . .

It went like that for the rest of the night, longer really than was needed.  Every member of the pack expressed their love and affect, their gratitude and concern for her.  Velvet's pussy was licked, fucked, fingered, and kissed by all of them.  Her breasts were kissed, nibbled, suckled, scratched, tugged, and squeezed.  She remembered moments in a jumble:  Ruby kneeling between her knees as she lay on her back, eating her out.  Ren fucking her from behind while Nora and she were engaged in a sixty-nine.  Yatsu had her again, now taking her anally as Fox took her front, the pair holding her between them.  Penny and Ciel suckling her breasts and caressing her womanhood.  She remembered how they all differed their pleasure to hers, sometimes leaving without cumming after she'd peaked to let someone else take over.  Some of them paired off to help each other, but no experienced everyone as she did.  The whole pack claimed her:  biting her gently, but hard enough to leave marks.  May, Reese, Arslan, and Neon all rubbing themselves against her, their leaking pussies smearing against her, coating her in their scent.  The trio of males filled all her holes at once.  Coco scissoring her while she ate Arslan out.  How it all ended with them all on the floor, cuddling one another as they fell asleep.  She pillowed her head against Coco's breasts, the Ulfric's arms around her.  Behind her, Yatsu's limbs did likewise, hugging her middle to him.  Two pairs of strong arms clung to her, warming her and guarding her. 

Above them, the pack slept in blissful ignorance, as Weiss--unable to stand anymore, stripped naked and pleasured herself, biting a pillow to keep from screaming in frustration.

* * *

Weiss came down the stairs at about noon . . . and immediately ran back up. The entire rest of the pack were sprawled out all over the living room floor completely nude. She huddled in her room for the rest of the morning, trying desperately not to think of the beautiful forms lying below her. The sun had lowered her libido to human levels, but only a true asexual could ignore the sight below her right now.

A couple hours later, when her stomach was becoming impossible to ignore, Weiss heard a knock on her door. It opened, revealing Blake in her robe. "Hungry?" She asked.

"What do you think?" The Fledgling sourly replied.

Blake sighed. "I'm sorry. Don't worry; if things work out, then in a year or so, you'll be joining us."

Weiss frowned "No! No, no, no, no! I'm not-I'm not like him! I can control myself! I . . ."

"Weiss! Weiss!" Blake knelt in front of her, placing her hands on the girl's shoulders. "Listen to me, Weiss. You are not your father."

Weiss looked up, the blood ran so cold it hurt. "How did you know about him?" She asked.

Blake looked down. "I did some research on you after we took you in. Googled your name, spoke to the hotel manager and the other valets at the restaurant you worked at. I found some news articles that mentioned your father's indiscretions."

Weiss swallowed. "They didn't know the half of it," she whispered.

"I know," her Sire said. Now was Blake's turn to look uncomfortable. "Weiss . . . There's something I haven't told you. I've been waiting for the right time, but now . . . Do you remember how I told you we share a bond, as Sire and Fledgling?"

Weiss nodded. "You said we could always find each other, if we wanted to."

Blake nodded. "Part of it goes deeper than that. There will be times, especially if we're close when . . . we share dreams. And memories." Weiss went bug-eyed again, and Blake pressed on before she could go into another panic attack. "Not on purpose. Well, if we wanted to we could, but it mostly just . . . happens. On its own."

"And . . . you've been seeing . . ." Weiss asked.

"You're memories of him, yes."

Weiss fought a blush. "Anything else?"

Blake looked her in the eye. "Nothing you need be ashamed of. Weiss you need to remember three important things: 1. You are a Vampire; you're sexuality will naturally be more . . . intense than a Human's." Weiss looked down, frowning. "2. Dreaming and doing are two separate things. You must have been tempted to bite people multiple times over the course of the past month. Does that make you a bad person, because you wanted to even though you resisted? It's the same with your libido, Weiss. And lastly, and this is the most important one: the pack is a family. If you join us, it's because you love us and we love you. Maybe it will lead to sexual love, maybe it won't, but no one will look down on you for wanting make love.  The worse they'll say is 'no.'"

"How can you be sure?" Weiss asked. "I've only known you all less than five weeks, we haven't really had time to bond yet or really know each other. Arlsan and May don't even like me!"

"They may not get a choice. Their souls will tell them," Blake said. When Weiss gave he the only look someone can when they hear that, her Sire smiled. "Apparently Werewolves' souls can 'call' for each other or to non-Werewolves they feel compelled to accept as pack." She snorted. "I don't know if it's just an over-poetic way to describe falling in love or what. But that is what it's all about: love. Love is a lot of things, Weiss. It is patient, it is kind, but if there's one thing I've learned about love over the course of my life it's that it ALWAYS insists on its own way."

* * *

 "Good afternoon."

Jaune almost fell out of his chair at the introduction.  He was already running on too little sleep from the night before.  Between meeting Velvet and company and cleaning up after them, it had taken awhile to get home.  Add to that the nightmare-fueling screams he'd heard from the morgue, and it was easy to understand why he was nodding off at his desk. 

Looking up, he saw a tall woman with bright, red hair tied back into a ponytail.  She had bright green eyes, and a pretty face.  "Good afternoon," she said again.

"Uh, good afternoon," Jaune replied.  "Can I help you with anything?"

Pyrrha nodded.  "I'm looking for Captain Port and Special Agent Ironwood."

Jaune blinked.  "Um, follow me," he said.  Silently lamenting that now he'd lost what precious little time for rest he had before his superiors sent him off with Sun and Neptune again, he led her to the office where he found the two men arguing.  Or rather, Ironwood was arguing; Port was smiling as he always did.

"I'm telling you, Port, there's no way animal did that level of damage.  Let me take the body back to our morgue.  We have better equipment than you."

"I've told you, James, the family is pressuring us to turn the body of for burial.  We've found nothing to indicate this was anything other than an animal attack.  Certainly nothing to prove that this has anything to do with your serial killer."

"I might be able to help with that."  Jaune jumped as the redhead beside him spoke up.  When the two men turned to her, she held up a badge.  "Agent Pyrrha Nikos of the Bureau's Haven branch.  I was sent in to provide assistance."

"I don't recall asking for any assistance," Ironwood growled.

Pyrrha just smiled back at him.  "No, sir, but our superiors felt I might be of help to you.  You only have one agent with you for assistance, and I have training in zoology and wilderness tracking."

Ironwood grunted.  "So you can tell the difference between a wolf bite and a wound made to look like one?"

"Certainly, sir."

 Ironwood grunted.  "I'll call to check your credentials.  In the meantime, I want you to take another look at that corpse.  Officer Arc can lead you there."

"Do try to be quick about it," Port said, his smiling slipping a little.  "I don't want to keep the family waiting."

"I promise I'll be as efficient as I can, sir," Pyrrha replied.  "Turning to Jaune, she asked "Shall we get going."

"Right this way," he said.  He tried not to betray his own concerns as he led the woman to the morgue.  He wasn't sure what hoodoo or whatever the Café girls had done with the corpse, but he knew it helped keep Beacon safe.  He also knew it was supposed to be kept a secret and all these curious feds made that more and more difficult.

* * *

At the club Weiss found herself in a position she usually avoided.  She stood outside the door to the showers, waiting for Velvet to come out.  Some of the Lukoi didn't get up until it was time to leave--not that it mattered since there were only so many showers the house could provide--and so in a change of pace were forced to shower before the club opened rather than after it closed.  Unsurprisingly, Velvet was the last to awaken.

Weiss had been out of the Sun for a while now, so her ears were sharper than normal, sharp enough to listen in on Velvet, Coco, and Arslan and what they were staying over the noise of the showers.

"Stop being so damn _happy,_ Velvet!" the Ulfric shouted.  "You're supposed to be the smartest one of us.  Show it!  Show some damn concern for yourself!"

"I know the risks, Coco," Velvet replied.  "But they're small.  Can't you just let me enjoy this?"

"And what about when the kid is _born?"_ Coco went on.  "You think this is a good time for a baby while we're dealing with a fucking Vargulf?"

"You don't think we'll still be fighting the Vargulf for ten months?" Velvet asked, sounding dubious.

"What about other concerns?"

"What other concerns?" Velvet cried, something Weiss didn't think she was capable of.  "Coco, you can't keep doing this!"

"Of course I can!"

"No, you can't," Arslan broke in.  "Coco, you've been giving us a lot of excuses as to why we can't have children.  That the pack needs to stabilize, that we need more money, that the town needs to get used to us.  All those problems have been dealt with.  Our pack's bond is strong, we have more money than we know what to do with, and Beacon has fully accepted us.  You can't keep doing this and expect it to go unquestioned among so many strong and proud Wolves.

Coco made a noise indicating she was about to speak, but Velvet interrupted her.  "You promised us, Coco.  You promised you wouldn't do this."

"I'm not like him!" Coco shouted.  She then stomped out of the showers, ignoring Weiss.  Despite that, the Fledgling ducked into the bathroom to avoid the irate Ulfric.  

"Sorry you heard that," Velvet said from behind her.  Weiss jumped but resisted the urge to turn around.  She still wasn't sure about her ability to ignore attractive women nude and dripping wet--she shook her head to clear the image.

"It's her own fault, she stuck her ears where they didn't belong," Arslan  commented.  Weiss heard a squeak as the knob was turned, and the shower went off.

"I wanted to talk to you about . . ." Weiss shook her head.  "Velvet, are you _pregnant?"_

The brown-haired woman spoke with a smile.  "I don't know yet, but it's certainly possible."

Weiss floundered for a couple moments.  "I noticed Coco has some . . . problems with this."

"She's just overly concerned about the health risks," Velvet explained.

"Are they . . . different for Werewolves?  I know it isn't always safe for Humans."

There was a pause; Weiss imagined the pair were looking at each other.  "There is some risk," Velvet admitted.

Arslan continued.  "There's a one in ten chance the child could develop Mowgli's Syndrome."

"What's that?" Weiss asked, her mind supplying all sorts of horrid visions.  

"It's when . . . We've told you that Werewolves can be born, right?" Velvet asked. 

Weiss nodded, even though she still wasn't facing them.  "Yes, I remember Ruby told me she and Yang were 'Purebloods' as the phrase goes.  Blake told me that becoming one via biting is actually very uncommon."

"Because it's hard to survive an attack from our kind," Arslan remarked.

"Right,"  elver confirmed.  "Well, usually a Pureblood is largely Human for the majority of their childhood; we don't experience our first change until puberty.  There exceptions, however.  Some don't change until adulthood, and some make the transition while they're still pre-teens, sometimes before they even leave infancy."   Velvet paused and took a breath.  "And sometimes, they change before they've even been born."

Arslan took over.  "The baby changes in the womb.  Mindless and hostile; it rips its mother apart from the inside.  Neither can survive."

Weiss stood statue still.  She imagined kind and timid Velvet, lying on her back on a delivery bed, screaming and writhing in pain as her pregnant belly twisted and deformed.  She thought of the same happening to poor, sweet Ruby, even though she knew the girl was a Lesbian.  Nora, Penny, all the others.  Even the intimating Arslan.

"Weiss?" Velvet asked.  "I promise, the risk is minimal, and-"

"I have to go," Weiss said.  She ran from the room, not caring if she ran into Coco.

She made her way into the kitchen, needing someone to talk to.  Something to eat.  Anything.  She sat down and breathed in the pungent stink of the place, focusing on her screaming sinuses, letting it burn out the memory of the past few moments. 

"Weiss?" The Fledgling looked up and saw Ruby standing over her.  "You OK?  You dashed in here like a mad woman.  Is there something wrong?"

Weiss struggled to work her mouth for a few moments.  "Velvet . . . told me about . . . Mowgli's Syndrome."

"Oh."  Ruby's response was quiet.  Weiss could feel the girl deflate beside her.

"I just don't get--how?" Weiss asked.  "How is Velvet so happy about this?  She doesn't even know who the father is?  She might die because of that damn orgy, and she doesn't care!"

"That's not how it works!" Ruby cried.

"HOW?  How is that not how it works?  Everyone fucked her last night!  Including you!  You all treated her like she was a fucking concubine!"  Ruby wilted under Weiss' stare, but the white-haired Fledgling was too pissed to care.  And to think, she'd really liked this hypocritical little--

"No, they didn't," a voice interrupted.  Weiss turned and saw Velvet standing in the doorway.  The Witch's uniform was unevenly buttoned, and her hair was still damp.  "I'm not a concubine for this pack, Weiss.  Not like you think.  Believe me, I know."

"What!  What do you know?" Weiss screamed.

"I know what it's like to be a sex slave.  That's what I was in my old pack."  Weiss was stunned.  Velvet sat down across from her.  Looking down, she continued.  "You might have noticed that everyone in the pack is fairly young.  Aside from Blake, anyway.  That's because this is a new pack.  Coco was born in California.  She moved here, gathering Lukoi along the way to found a new pack.  I used to belong to another pack, and I mean I  _belonged_ to them, as in _owned._ The Ulfric of that pack . . . Cardin was his name, and he was a bully.  Might made right as far as he was concerned.  Everyone was above or below someone else, except for the two of us, because he was above everyone and I was below everyone."

"Even though you're a Witch?" Weiss asked. 

"Especially because I'm a Witch.  Did Blake tell you I can use sex for to fuel my magic?" 

"She mentioned that," Weiss said, fighting a blush.

"I can use sex to heal myself or others.  Physically and mentally.   In many packs, this makes the position of Vargamour--the pack's Witch--an inherently submissive one, only sought by those who don't have the power or the ferocity to claim a higher status.  That was true in my old pack, under the rule of Cardin's father."  Velvet took a deep breath.  "Rob Winchester was a stern and uncompromising ruler, but he was neither malicious nor totally unjust.  I was always the lowest of the pack, teased and trod upon by everyone, so I was happy to become the Vargamour.  I knew I would be respected, not as an equal or a superior but as an integral and honored subordinate, using my magic to protect, advise, and comfort my packmates.  And for a time, I was.  Then Cardin killed him and took over."  Weiss gasped, but Velvet ignored it.  "Under Cardin, the pack's strict hierarchical trends were worsened into a bitter rivalry between all members and everything about my status was perverted.  I went from being a lowly, but valued member, to being a valuable tool.  I served Cardin and his whims.  He wasn't interested in asking for visions or advice from a scholar.  He used my power and body to heal himself, or his favored cronies, or to reward them." She shuddered, bringing her hand up to her neck.  "I was  Insulted, beaten, and  _raped,_ daily.  I was no longer the pack's wise woman or shaman; I was their whipping girl, the one they took out their problems on.  Or the toy they played with when they wanted to have fun."  Ruby slid down into a seat beside Velvet and slowly, hesitantly wrapped her arms around her.  Velvet closed her eyes and leaned into the smaller girl, sniffing and nuzzling her packmate.

"I'm sorry," Weiss said.  It sounded hollow, weak, pathetic.  But what else could she say.

"I was only for fun," Velvet whispered.  "Cardin forbad me from getting pregnant, promised to beat me until I miscarried if I did.  He didn't need weaklings breeding."

"That's . . ."

"There are packs like that," Ruby said, looking down at Velvet, gently stroking her hair.  "To greater and lesser degrees, our kind are mostly ruled by the strength of body and will.  There's no system of checks and balances, no division of power into separate branches.  And no higher courts we can appeal to.  If the Ulfric does something you don't like, your only recourse is to challenge them for the title.  Usually to the death."  She looked up at Weiss, meeting her gaze.  "I know Coco isn't your favorite person, Weiss, and I admit that she doesn't always show it, but please understand that she's _good_ to us.  And so's everyone else."  Looking back down at Velvet, she continued.  "Some packs wouldn't care that I'm a Lesbian and would force me to have sex with anyone that wanted it because I'm so submissive.  Some would have killed you and Blake on sight for being Vampires.  Or Fox because he's blind, and they think he's too weak to be of use.  You know, Weiss, before everything started last night, she asked Velvet if _she_ wanted to make love last night, Weiss.  Even though Coco knew she needed it, knew her magic could use it to heal what the vision had done to her, Coco still asked rather than simply ordering it."  The young Lukoi's eyes hardened.  "And I promise you, no one would have done _anything_ if she had said no."

Weiss nodded.  She remained silent a moment, thinking over what the Lukoi had said.  "How did you get out?" she finally asked.

Velvet smiled, a dreamy romantic smile.  The way you do when someone asks how you met your first love.  "Coco met me one morning while I was out gathering herbs from my garden.  She was staying in the area for a time, looking for new wolves to recruit to her pack.  Cardin wasn't happy about it, but he was beyond angry when she walked up to him and demanded he let me join.  For all his disrespect, he acknowledged my abilities were useful."

"How did she convince him?" Weiss asked.

"She challenged him to a duel.  If she won, I would leave with her.  If he won, she would join his pack and bare him a child."  Weiss couldn't stop the growl that erupted from her throat at this other Ulfric's misogyny and arrogance.  "Coco won, and I left."

"And he let you?"  To Weiss it seemed unbelievable.

"Even if had been able to stop her, he couldn't," Ruby said.  "Our customs are old and strong.  He could be a bully all he wanted, but duels are sacred; if he had welched on his agreement, it might have made his whole pack put aside their differences and rise up against him."

Her wording caught Weiss by surprise.  "'Even if he had been able to?'" she asked.

Velvet explained.  "Coco could have killed him if she had wanted, but she wanted him to suffer for what he did to me.  She crippled him, left him weak and vulnerable, but alive.  Alive and surrounded by people he had once intimidated and abused."  The normally kind and caring woman's smile turned dark.  "I doubt he stayed that way for very long."

Wiess nodded.  "I need to get to work," she said, getting up.  A thought occurred to her.  "Velvet?" she asked.  "Why was Coco so upset with you over a possible pregnancy?  I know there are risks, but that seemed . . . excessive."

Velvet lifted her head from Ruby's shoulder and looked at Weiss.  "She's seen Mowgli's Syndrome.  Up close and personal.  Coco won't admit it, but it terrifies her, the thought of losing another loved one to it."  She paused before continuing.  "Don't talk to her about it.  She'll share when she'd ready.  Just be patient."

Weiss nodded and went out of the kitchen.  Ruby followed her.  They saw Ren and Nora waiting outside.  Nora gave her a thumbs up and bustled into the kitchen, Ren following after a meaningful nod.  Weiss stopped, watching the others set up.  They didn't seem interested in her, but they also seemed more subdued than normal.  She turned to Ruby.  "How popular . . . you said all packs are ruled by strength, Ruby.  How many are like Cardin's?"

Ruby shuffled uncomfortably.  "It's hard to say," Ruby admitted.  "Some are worse than others.  Mine and Yang's old pack was nowhere near that bad, but they still did some kinda shifty stuff."

Weiss gulped.  "What kind of stuff?"

"The Ulfric wanted strong pups to secure our future.  He 'encouraged' strong wolves like Dad and Yang's mom to have offspring."

"Wait, you're not sisters?"  Weiss asked.

"Oh, we're sisters, all right.  Half-sisters.  My Mom was Dad's bitch, but she was a submissive like me, so I'm her only child."  Ruby shrugged. "Yang has a couple other siblings from her mother, and we both have some other possible half-siblings from Dad."

"And your mother was all right with this?" Weiss asked.

"Yeah, why not?" Ruby asked, cocking her head to the side in curiosity.  "She loved Dad, of course she'd love his kids, too.  Heck, she's practically Yang's mother given that Raven--she's Yang's biological mother--wasn't really interested in having kids.  I mean, don't get me wrong, she made a fun aunt and I know she loved us as much as the rest of the pack, but she also had the habit of running off on her own for long periods and didn't have a lot of patience for crying babies."  Ruby looked at Weiss' reaction and laughed.  "Weiss, were _Werewolves!"_ Didn't I tell you we're all one big family?"

"So, you don't care about who's children you raise?" Weiss asked.

"It's usually kina hard to determine paternity with us," the redhead admitted.  "Although that might be easier in this pack because we've only got three guys, but why shouldn't we love our lovers' children.  Since most of us are bisexual anyway, the father might be someone we're close to."  Ruby shook her head.  "I know that Humans are obsessed with bloodlines and lineages and stuff, but we don't, Weiss.  Children are closest to their mother's and their close lovers, the whole pack loves them.  I promise, if Velvet has a child, everyone will celebrate, an we'll all pitch in.  No matter how much she's upset now, Coco will step up to be the father-figure the baby needs, or at least she will if she ever realizes she should make Velvet her bitch.  Just like Blake and Ren will if and when Yang and Nora have children.  We're a family, Weiss, and family supports itself."

Family supports itself.  The thought repeated itself over and over in Weiss' head.  She saw a vision of a white-haired woman vibrant and beautiful shapeshifting into a tear-stricken, figure, barely alive.  She saw a cold, distant man with cold, distant eyes.  A white-haired boy laughing at her over the remains of her favorite doll.  A second white-haired woman, handing her a pair of keys and saying "Promise me, Weiss.  Promise me you'll _live."_

"Weiss?  Weiss are you OK?" Ruby asked.  She took Weiss hands in hers, holding them close.  "Oh, crap.  I said something wrong didn't I?  Oh, Weiss what did I say wrong?"

Weiss shook her head.  "I'm fine," she said.  But, she didn't free her hands from Ruby's for the moment, in fact she wished she could do _more._ Be closer to her.  Unconsciously, her hands twisted in the redheaded Lukoi's own, so that she could hold them in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was a thing. I hope this adequately demonstrates why the Pack won't go to Velvet to solve all their problems. I stole the bit about divination requiring you to get high from a HARRY POTTER fanfic my friend told me about. He didn't remember the name, unfortunately, but I liked it. It was interesting and made sense when you look at how many cultures used hallucinogens to try to connect to the spirit world. Apologies if the Irish was wrong; I used Google Translate. I considered Welsh and Gaelic, not Latin, though as I feel it's kind of overused and doesn't seem "alien" enough. The Celtic languages have, to me, a kind of lyrical quality that makes them quasi-magical already. 
> 
> The sex magic thing draws on ideas of tantra and nuru and other ritualized forms of sexuality. This will be explored more in-depth as the series progressesAs well as from the OTHERWORLD series by Yasmine Galenorn, which in the novel mentioned how characters had similar training in using sex to heal.
> 
> Yeesh. I didn't expect this chapter to be nearly so angsty. I always intended Mowgli's Syndrome to be a part of the mythos (I kind of stole it from the ANITA BLAKE: VAMPIRE HUNTER series), but I didn't realize how screwed up Velvet's backstory was. I had already decided there were bad Packs of Lukoi, but I never imagined it would go this far. In fairness though, I just figured out how bad Weiss' old life was, and I never expected that either. We'll learn more about her and Coco and how they got the way they are as the story progresses. For now, I hope you enjoyed the breadcrumbs.
> 
> I did steal stole that quote from an episode of PRIMEVAL: NEW WORLD (personally I prefer the original series, but NEW WORLD has its charms), specifically the episode "Undone." Yes, I am aware that deer eat plants not insects, but in the show, they used a stegosaurus, which also didn't eat bugs. So, fair's fair.
> 
> Next time, we do more with the Human investigation. Plus, Sun and Neptune in the Veil Café.


	6. Episode Six: Conflict of Interests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned: This chapter may not be for lovers of Sun and Neptune.

"What happened to her eye?" Pyrrha asked.

"What?" Neptune asked.  He'd been paying less attention to the dead girl than the live one.  A dereliction of duty no doubt, but could anyone blame him?  Aside from Ironwood?  Their new co-worker was a beauty; long, toned legs her pants did little to hide, dark red hair with bright green eyes, bigger than average breasts . . .

"Her eye," repeated Pyrrha.  "According to both yours and the coroner's notes, her face was mostly intact when she was brought in.  So why is she missing an eye?"

Neptune re-examined the face.  She'd been a pretty girl in life.  Now, she looked more like a big child.  For him, dying made the young seem younger and the old seem older.  His own musings aside, Pyrrha was definitely right.  "Holy cow, it's been removed," he whispered.  Bringing out a magnifying glass, he bet down and examined the wound.

"It doesn't look like an animal did it," Pyrrha remarked, "or that it fell out on its own."  

"It wasn't.  These cuts were made by a blade."

"It must have been done sometime last night," Pyrrha concluded.  "You examined the body the other day."

"Yeah, the wounds confirm that.  This was done less than twelve hours ago," Neptune said.

Pyrrha went over to examine the door.  Neptune pretended not to look at her ass.  "No signs of forced entry," she said.

"So, someone just walked in here and carved up a dead girl's face?"  Neptune asked.  He bit his tongue.  "Every time I think I've seen everything, something new pops up."

"You should probably do a full work up," Pyrrha commented.  "They may have taken more than an eye."

* * *

Jaune found himself in the unenviable position of being interrogated by Special Agent Ironwood.  "You admit you were the last person to leave last night," the older man said.  "You were working _alone,_ and you locked the doors _alone,_ and you left the building _alone."_

"Yes, sir," the blonde said, meekly.

"Jaune usually does such things," Port said.  While the captain wasn't exactly on Jaune's side (they didn't want Ironwood to suspect _him_ as well), he was doing his best to help his subordinate.  "He doesn't have a family to return to or any other pressing matters, so he's generally the one to lock up."

"And how long does it take to 'lock up?'" Ironwood growled, clearly unamused by Port's interruption.

"I had a lot of paperwork, sir," Jaune replied, weakly.  "I didn't leave until after midnight."

"After which you went straight home," Ironwood supplied.  "And you can prove you were alone in the building until you left?"

"The security cameras in the building don't work," Port lied.  "They went down a while ago, and we haven't been able to repair them.  Budget cuts, you know."

Ironwood made an angry sound that implied he didn't believe Port while simultaneously commiserating about meddling of bean-counters.  The special agent turned his attention back to the officer.  "So you were here alone, unsupervised and unobserved last night?"

Jaune swallowed.  Even he could see that that question was loaded.  Very loaded.  But, he couldn't lie to the agent.  Firstly, because if he was found out it would only make things worse.  Secondly, he couldn't convincingly lie to a toddler-much less a highly trained, experienced, and decorated investigator.  "Yes, sir."

Ironwood was not happy with his reply.  Jaune was then subjected to having his hands scrubbed and probed by Neptune.  His car and home were scrutinized, as was his phone.  By the time his shift was supposed to be over, Port finally put his foot down.

"James, old boy, this is ridiculous.  You've run more checks on the boy than a race horse.  Jaune isn't guilty of anything criminal.  Even if the eye was taken when Jaune was on duty--and your man can't say for certain it was--you can't even prove they didn't come in through the backdoor, missing Jaune entirely!  Let my man go home, and focus your energies on something worthwhile."

Ironwood spent a moment or two staring the old captain down.  Port, despite his cheerful demeanor held his ground against the smoldering gaze.  Finally, Ironwood turned his back and walked away.  "Fine.  We'll have to do something to ensure the body is better protected from now on.  Get some rest, Arc; tomorrow will  be busy."

Jaune sighed in relief.  Port patted him on the shoulder as he passed.  "Well, handled, my lad," he said quietly.

The blonde got up and left the room.  "Jaune," a voice said.  

Looking up, he identified the speaker.  "Oh, hi . . . Agent . . ."

"Nikos," the redhead answered.  "I'm sorry I put you through all that trouble."

Jaune scratched his head.  "Eh, don't worry about it.  It wasn't--"

"Arc!" a new voice called.  The two turned around to see Agent Wukong and Dr. Vasilias approaching.  Both were smiling as though they were aware of some secret joke.  Jaune's mood of relief dropped like a lead pipe.  "Can I help you, agents?"

Agent Wukong's smile widened.  "Actually, it's us who are going to help you."

"What?"

Neptune let out a sigh that implied long-suffering.  "Ironwood's one of the good guys, but he's also a little obsessive.  Especially when he thinks he's found signs of corruption."

"So, thought we'd make it up to you," Sun said, grabbing Jaune by the arm.  "Come on, you need a drink, and we all know where the best bar in this not-town is!"  He paused.  "Unless you had some other plans for the night," he said, looking in Agent Nikos' direction.

"What?  Oh," Jaune blushed.  "Oh, no.  We, uh, we're not, ah-"

"We were just talking," Pyrrha said.  "I have some work to do, so I can't join you boys.  Have a good time."  Looking at Jaune, she added, "I'll see you all tomorrow."  Then she turned and walked away.

"Well, that could have been awkward," Neptune said. 

Jaune turned to him.  "What?"

* * *

Many a would-be troublemaker wilted under Yatsuhashi Daichi's glare.  Sun and Neptune, however, shrugged off the giant's gaze as they entered the club. They'd experienced worse, and it wasn't like he could actually do anything to them.  They weren't doing anything wrong, and they were Feds.  The two smiled as they strolled in.  Behind them, Jaune followed, smiling awkwardly at Yatsu and looking supremely uncomfortable.

"Yeesh, man" Sun said. "I've seen guys headed to the executions who looked less nervous than you.  What gives?"

"Small town," Jaune answered.  "Everybody knows everybody.  Makes it weird to see a girl take her clothes off when you see her at the farmer's market the next day."

The trio took a seat in the back.  "Hello!" a russet-haired girl who looked like she was barely old enough to be in the club said as she approached them.  "What can I get you tonight?"

"How about a beer, gorgeous?" Sun asked.

"Brandy," Neptune requested.

"Ginger ale, please,"  The other two

"I'm sorry about them," Jaune said.  The other two stared at him.  He fidgeted in his seat.  "What?  Someone has to drive."

"Dude," Sun said.  "Let us worry about that."

Neptune nodded.  "We'll make sure you get home safe."

Jaune's gaze flicked between them a few times, before he sighed and said.  "Fine, I'll have a . . .  I got no clue."

Sun looked at him askance.  "Have you never drunk before?" he asked.

Jaune shrugged.  "I had a few beers in college; hated all of them.  And I've had wine with family, but this doesn't seem like the right place."

"Long Islands are sweet," Ruby offered.

Jaune shrugged.  "All right, I'll try one of those."

"All right-y," Ruby said, jotting it down.  She then sped off to fill the orders.

Sun smirked.  "Looks like you've got a fan,"

Jaune snorted.  "Ruby's gay," he said.

 "Oh."  Sun grinned.  Well, better luck with the next one."

Jaune was about to ask what he meant by that when Neptune spoke again.  "I was under the impression you didn't come here much."  He was looking pointedly at Jaune as he spoke.

Jaune bit his tongue to try to keep a strait face.  "I don't, but, like I said.  It's a small town and everyone knows everyone.  My best friend, Ren, is actually a chef here.  Sometimes, he'll make me a sandwich or something."

"Huh," sounds convenient," Neptune remarked, casually.  "You friends with any of the other staff here?" 

". . . a few," he admitted.

"Any of them girls?" Jaune asked, smirking. 

Jaune blushed in reply.  Fortunately, Ruby returned with their drinks before he had to answer (although the blush already had).  "Here you go," she said.  "Can I get you anything else?"

"Lobster Po-Boy with chips," Jaune requested.  "I didn't get to eat dinner because . . ."  He trailed off, obviously not wanting to bad-mouth the two agents' boss in front of them.

"Because Ironwood is a paranoid hard-ass," Sun explained.  "Nachos for me and pretzels for my friend."  Neptune nodded in agreement.

"Coming right up!" Ruby replied, happily.

The trio sat back, watching the stage and making small stalk.  Sun drank his beer happily.  The women in the club were hotter than hot, especially because the club's rules allowed them to actually get fully nude and play with themselves.  It was basically live porn.  Shame he couldn't jerk off to it (though if it had just been him and Neptune, he might have taken a chance).  He leaned back to take some pressure off his dick as he watched a couple on stage.  It was the buxom blond Yang and the Asian diva Blake.  The pair were dancing around the same pole, dropping bits of lingerie and grinding against one another.  Yang's shoulders were pressed against the pole, pushing her bare breasts out even more.  Blake faced her, slowly trailing her face down the blonde's front:  from her face, between her breasts, over her stomach, over her lacey bright yellow panties.  Pausing to nuzzle and place a single kiss on the woman's covered groin.  Her palms were pressed against Yang's legs; they glided up her thighs and hips, her fingertips settling on the waist of the panties.  They curled the edge down, sliding over to her hips.  Blake placed a gentle kiss on the exposed flesh as she pulled the article down.  

Now having exposed her partner's sex to the audience, Blake straitened up to the cheering crowd.  Yang took the opportunity to return the favor, pulling her in for a deep kiss while her hands reached down and pushed the panties off Blake's hips. The dark haired woman even swinging side to side to help make them fall.  The lingerie fell to the ground and Blake stepped out of it, using her other leg to kick it back behind the stage. 

The two nude women began rubbing against each other again.  Grinding against each other.  Yang's hands came up and cupped Blake's breasts.  Blake moaned before leaning in and latching her mouth onto Yang's nipple.  Yang leaned back against the pole, groaning.  Blake's hand dipped down into her lover's crotch, eliciting a cry of pleasure.   Yang's hand did as her partner's and began stroking Blake's pussy.  The Asian girl responded by dipping her face down to Yang's neck, nibbling it and drawing more cries of pleasure from the blonde.

"Thank you!"  Jaune's loud voice cut through the sound of the women's cries on stage.  To his own irritation, Sun couldn't help but take his eyes off the spectacle before him and turn his attention to his table-mate.  The blonde was blushing as he accepted his drink from the barely-legal waitress; he was obviously trying to keep his eyes off the stage.  Wow, was this guy a prude or what?

Beside him, he saw that Neptune was entertaining similar thoughts, although both men accepted their own beverages with a smile.  They went back to enjoying the stage.  After the show, there was a break as the dancers circulated amongst the crowd.  Sun waved one of them over, a punk-ish girl with neon-green hair dressed in a strapless sports bra and boy shorts.  "My name is Reese," she said.  "Can I help you, gentlemen?"

Sun grinned.  "My friend here," he said, gesturing to Jaune, "Could use a lap dance."

 "Wait!  What?" the officer choked.

The stripper smiled.  "Sure thing," she said.

Sun had to hand it to her; girl sure knew what she was doing.  The friendly smile changed to one that was sultry, promising.  She started by bending over--giving Sun an excellent view of her ass--and slide up Jaune's body.  Or, at least, she tried to.  Jaune . . . squawked like goose being strangled and flailed his arms.  He fell back in his chair, flipping the table over.  Sun watched his shot go flying.

"Well, that's a shame," Neptune said, looking at the spilled drinks, much of which had landed on Jaune. 

The blonde was helped up by the stripper.  "Why couldn't you just leave it be?" he growled.

Sun snorted.  "Why did you have to be so gay?"  Seriously, who turned down a free lap dance?

"Please do not use such language in this establishment," a voice said from behind him.  Sun turned around to see a girl who looked even younger than their waitress.  She was dressed in long-sleeved black shirt and black jeans.  Her voice sounded familiar.

"You're the voice behind the microphone," Neptune said.  Ah.

The girl nodded. "That's right, my name is Penny Polendina, and I am sorry but bigoted language is not welcome in the Veil Café.  If you continue to make such remarks, you will be asked to leave the premises."

"You got to be kidding me," Sun groaned.

"She's not," the stripper--Reese--said.  Turning to her, Sun saw that she was no longer smiling.  Her pretty face was cold, hard, like an ice sculpture.  "This business has a very strict policy in regards to respect."

While Sun was scowling, Neptune turned on the charm.  "Now, come on, that seems a little extreme . . ."

This time it was a male voice that answered.  A low, deep, familiar male voice.  "It is not," Yatsuhashi Daichi the bouncer said.  Sun actually jumped a little.  The giant and his blind partner with the muscle-shirt that showed off his scarred arms had snuck up on him.  Creepy.  The bouncer continued.  "There is enough cruelty and rudeness in the outside world.  It is not welcome in these walls."

Sun opened his mouth to reply, but Neptune put his hand on his partner's arm.  Sun looked back at him, and Neptune just shook his head.  Sun deflated.  "Yeah fine.  We'll leave."

* * *

"I'm sorry," Jaune said, as he helped set the furniture right.  The Federal Agents had left, and most everyone had returned to their previous occupations. 

"Not your fault," Reese replied. She had remained behind alongside Ruby and the attractive new waitress, Weiss.  "Men like them are all too common."

"That's not what I meant.  I mean for . . . all this," Jaune said sweeping his hand along the mess left on the floor the waitresses were sweeping up.

"Also not your fault," Reese said, smiling.  "I'm sorry, Jaune.  I shouldn't have tried to give you a lap dance if you weren't interested."

"Yeah, well . . ."  Jaune said, scratching the back of his head.  "I guess there is something off about me--"  Jaune stopped when Ruby flicked the back of his head.

"Jaune, you weren't about to say something homophobic were you?" she asked.

"Er, no . . ." Jaune said, realizing he probably was.  And in front of a friend he knew to be gay too.  And a woman he knew was probably bi.

"Good," Reese said, "I'd hate to have to throw you out, too.  And, Jaune," she said, getting serious.  "There is nothing wrong with being uncomfortable about sex.  I can't understand it myself, but it doesn't make you less of a man or anything like that.  Look at Ruby, she works here, but I don't think we'd ever get her on stage."

The redhead blushed.  "I don't feel comfortable with the idea of being seen by anyone who isn't a part of the pac--er, family!  I mean the family.  Yeah, that's totally what I mean!"

"Thanks," Jaune said, ignoring her slip-up.  Then, the hairs prickled up on the back of his neck, the tell-tale sign that someone was sneaking up behind him.  He turned, his hand automatically dropping to his hip despite the fact that he had checked his gun with Yatsu at the door.  Turning around, he only saw the last waitress, Ciel, holding a brown paper bag.  "Um, hi?"

"Velvet said you might prefer this to go," she said, handing Jaune his sandwich and chips.  "We've put the charge on your tab; it will be added to your next order.  You may leave whenever you like."

"Thanks," Jaune said.  Then he remembered an important detail.  "Oh, wait, my car's still at the station."

"I'll give you a ride," Reese said.

"Uh, don't you have to, you know, work?" Jaune asked.

Reese shrugged.  "Coco won't mind.  Much."  She smiled at him.  "Let me get my jacket . . ."

So, Jaune found himself in the green-haired woman's pickup, riding with her back to the station.  "Thanks, again," he said.  Laughing a little, he quipped, "I just keep owing you guys more and more, don't I?"

"You don't owe us, anything," Reese replied, parking.  "We're friends, Jaune."

"No, you're the ones doing my job, saving this town from . . ." he waved his arm at the darkness, "whatever's out there that I can't arrest or charge or anything else."  He sighed, "And now you've saved my bacon.  Seriously, I don't know what you are, but after all this, I'd have to guess angels or something."

Reese laughed.  "Don't say  that to Coco; it'll give her ideas."  Jaune blushed at the imagery his mutinous mind supplied him with.  Sobering, she looked him in the eye and said "Jaune don't doubt what you do is important to Beacon.  It's an honor to know you."  Leaning in, she kissed him on the cheek.

Jaune blushed again and climbed out of the car.  "Yeah, well, good night."

As he was walking to his own vehicle, he heard Reese call out to him, "And if you ever change your mind about that lap dance, I'll be happy to give it to you!"

Jaune was beet red as he climbed into his 4Runner.  There were still some lights on in the building, so no doubt someone had heard the offer.  He couldn't imagine who.  Certainly, he didn't imagine it was Special Agent Ironwood, looking out on him from behind the blinds, watching him exit the vehicle of a suspected prostitute, after receiving a kiss from her no less.  Nor did he suspect that on the other side of the building, the statuesque undercover agent was watching and listening as well, conflicting emotions flying across her face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to make. Most of it was easy to write, but that sex scene took a LONG time to make, but figuring out came next was even worse.
> 
> Sorry if this chapter came off as preachy, I just watched a review of the FAMILY GUY episode "Peter-Assment," an episode which started with the idea that a woman can sexually harass a man, but then began espousing the idea that there must be something wrong with a man if he isn't a raging horndog. It was honestly disgusting. 
> 
> If I haven't made this clear yet, Ironwood believes Coco is just using her club as a front for a brothel or escort service or some such thing. As for Sun and Neptune, I was actually expecting to do worse things with them (and probably will later). Basically, they're not as damaged as Ironwood, but still have issues.


	7. Episode Seven: The Usual Suspects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our two sides finally meet.

“What was that about?” Weiss asked.  Against her better judgement, she’d followed the woman back into the changing room. Thankfully, there was no one else there.  

“Just a couple of closeted idiots trying to act macho,” Coco replied.  The Ulfric was dressed in a robe.  Weiss could see lingerie under it, but given that all of her new acquaintances were essentially nudists, the Fledgling knew she couldn't hope for much else.  As Coco took it off, though, Weiss turned around.  Didn’t stop her from continuing to ask questions, though.

“You sounded like you knew them.  Who were they?”

“Federal Agents,” Arslan said, appearing out of nowhere.  Weiss didn’t exactly jump, but she wasn’t ashamed to admit she was shocked; she’d thought only Vampires could perform that trick, though Blake hadn’t taught it to her yet.  “They work for the FBI, specifically under Special Agent Ironwood.”

“Who’s he?” Weiss asked. 

“A pain in our collective asses,” Coco said.  “He works out of the FBI’s Vytal office, and he makes it his personal mission to get involved in any case that has an excuse to bring him to our doorstep.”

“Agent Ironwood dislikes Beacon,” Arlsan explained.  “He believes we haven’t left our criminal roots.”

“Probably haven’t,” Coco snorted.  “The only time we get anyone new is when they’re running from something and want to hide.”

Weiss tried to conceal her discomfort at that statement.  "I was under the impression the majority of Beacon were fishermen.  That hardly seems like the career path hardened criminals would use."

"They could still be running from minor charges or trouble with gangsters," Arlsan said.

”Plus there’s the guy who drives his van into Vytal every day to sell fur coats and golf clubs and stuff out of it,” Coco added.  Weiss looked at her, and the brunett shrugged.  “He’s a local celebrity.”

While Weiss processed this new tidbit, Arslan spoke again.  "Ironwood has no tolerance for crime, regardless of the scale."  After a moment, she continued, "Which leads to a more personal problem:  Ironwood has a particular grudge against Coco and our establishment.”

“He thinks we’re hookers,” the Ulfric explained.

“ . . . Why?” Weiss asked, blushing.

Coco shrugged.  “Because a lot of strippers are, and I suppose he thinks if we’re willing to have sex with each other for cash, we'll do strangers, too."  She turned to look Weiss in the eye.  "Not like you haven't thought the same thing, right?"

Weiss cringed.  "I . . ."

"You're new.  Weres are weird to Humans.  You'll get used to it eventually," Coco said.  "At least if you don't want to spend eternity alone, that is."

"What do you mean?"

Arslan made a face.  "Vampires are often considered the natural enemies of Werewolves.  However . . . our's is not the only pack to accept your kind. Even if you do not join our pack, you may, _may,_  find another one to join."

"What about other Vampires?  Don't we have . . . packs of our own?"  Weiss asked.

Coco snorted.  "Please!  Vampries hate each other more than the rest of us do.”  Weiss looked at her, and the Ulfric shrugged.  “I’ve been from one end of this country to the other, and I never saw or heard of more than three Vampires together at a time.”

“She’s not lying.”  Weiss turned and saw Blake slip in the changing room, already wearing a robe.  “Our kind don’t like to spend a lot time with one another.  We’re rather territorial.”

Weiss cocked her head.  “I thought Fledglings and their Sires shared a bond?”

Blake chuckled.  “That only goes so far.  Some Fledglings and Sires hate each other.”

“Really?”

“Have you noticed my Sire anywhere near us, do you?” Blake said, her smile falling.  Shaking her head, she continued.  “Fledglings and Sires can’t kill each other, but they don’t always like each other either.”

“But . . . you said I could stay . . .” Weiss said in a small, quiet voice.

“You can,” Blake said.  “Do you resent me for Siring you?”

Weiss frowned.  “No.  I don’t like everything about being a Vampire, but you saved my life, and you’ve been a good mentor to me.”  She looked around at the other two.  “Everyone’s been good to me.”

Blake smiled.  “Thank you, Weiss, but you have to understand . . . our relationship . . . not all Vampires have it.  All lot of Vampires just sneak up on Humans they think would make good Fledglings and Sire them without warning.  Or a Human  is Sired completely by accident. That doesn’t happen very often, but it does.  Plenty of Vampires have . . . abusive relationships.”

Weiss thought about this.  “Fathers can be cruel.”

Blake cocked her head.  “Yes, they can.  Regardless, Weiss, what you need to understand is that while I promise you will always have a place among us, you probably won’t form long-term relationships with a lot of other Vampires.  Most of our kind prefer to seek companionship amongst Humans or even Werewolves.”

“I thought—Ruby said Werewolves don’t like Vampires.  She said a lot of packs would kill our kind on sight.”

“A lot are that way,” Coco said. “Though in fairness there are a lot of asshole Vampires out there who’d rip our throats out as soon as look at us.” 

“Some consider our species to be natural enemies,” Arlsan said, looking pointedly at Weiss as she said this.  “However, sometimes,” here she looked at Blake, “a Vampire proves themselves trustworthy and are inducted into the pack.”

There was an unspoken comment attached to the end of the statement.  Something that was both a challenge and an invitation.  Weiss nodded to show she accepted the Bolverk’s gauntlet.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Blake said.  “You're unlikely meet many other Werewolves over the course of your life.  By necessity, they keep to rural areas or places bordering rural areas, like Beacon or Vytal.  Our kind prefer large cities.  It’s easier to blend in, and we have access to . . . a larger selection of prey.”

Coco snorted.  “And it lets you hide from us, right?”

Blake smiled.  “That _is_ a beneficially side effect.”

* * *

“Good morning, Jaune,” Pyrrha said.

"Wha--oh, good morning, ma'am," Jaune said.  Despite his lack of alcohol the night before, he’d gotten little sleep, a result of the many thoughts swirling through his mind.  Sun and Neptune’s actions.  What the consequences of his actions would be for their ability to work as a team or for himself.  The consequences for the club and the town.  The way his libido was riled up and refused to go down.  What Reese’s farewell could mean . . .

Pyrrha frowned.  “I’d say you boys shouldn’t have stayed out so late.”

Jaune flushed.  “I went home early.  I just didn’t sleep very well.  What with the case and all.”

Pyrrha’s look softened.  “You shouldn’t bring such things home with you, Jaune.  Believe me, it will only destroy you.”

Jaune gave a weak smile.  "No choice.  Something's running around killing my people.  They're counting on me to do something about this, but I can't.  I--"

"Jaune!" Port said, waltzing into the room.  "Agent Nikos, glad you're here.  James wants us to have a meeting of some sort.  Come along."

the trio went into Port's office.  Ironwood stood beside the desk, assuming a kind of authority in the room.  "I assume the locals are calling for a hunt to kill the 'rabid wolf' you're blaming this on?"

"No," Port said.  "The people of Beacon trust us to handle the situation."

"It's rare to see such faith in law enforcement," Ironwood remarked.

"Especially these days," Sun whispered to Neptune."

"Not so uncommon in a place where the law are fellow members of the community," Port said.  "People see me and Jaune in the grocery store, at school plays and games, at parades and picnics.  Of course, it helps that I have almost forty years of successfully keeping the peace in this town that isn't a town."  he chuckled at his own joke.  "gives them a feeling of confidence in me, you know."

Ironwood kept his thoughts about this lack of prestige and authority to himself.  "Regardless.  We know for certain this is a Human killer.  We should begin our investigations.  Agent Wukong?"

"Sir?" Sun said.

"Have you acquired the list?"

"Post Office will fax it over when they're done," he said.

"List?" Port asked.

"We should begin our investigation with the newest residents of this . . . place," Ironwood said.  Beacon was, after all, not incorporated as a town. 

"What about the attacks in Vytal?" Port asked.  "Didn't they begin there?"

"They did," Ironwood growled.  "There are still agents working in Vytal.  Our two units will co-ordinate."

Jaune and Pyrrha both swallowed at this, for different reasons.  Pyrrha knew this would make her job more difficult, not to mention the inevitable confrontation between herself and the Were doing this and the stray Were doing this would now risk innocent bystanders--even if it didn't, if one of the primary suspects in this investigation were to disappear, it would only make Ironwood more interested in discovering the truth.  She'd seen his type before.  Jaune meanwhile knew at least one of the Cafe's waitresses was a newcomer (or at least a new hire), and this would only make trouble for them and make it harder for them to deal with whatever was really going on.

* * *

Weiss salted her blood pudding.  It still wasn't good, but she was getting better at improving the unpleasant goo.  It was times like now, she was most aware of her loss upon becoming a Vampire.  She was sitting among her friends and packmates, who were devouring a large collection of sandwiches:  grilled cheese with bacon and peppers, smoked chicken salad with pecans and dried cranberries, and well-seasoned egg salad.  This was all paired with potato salad, grapes, and apple slices with peanut butter.  Not to mention the jumbo chocolate chunk cookies Ruby was eyeing like an accused addict trying to ignore the pack of heroine the police had put in front of her.  And Weiss couldn't touch a bit of it.  Not until she finished her bowl of maroon-colored, coppery tasting syrup.

It occurred to Weiss that Coco never ate lunch with the rest of the pack.  In fact, she didn’t really eat lunch at all.  Weiss had seen the woman walking around the house snacking on peanut butter crackers, apple slices, and summer sausage at all hours.  Generally hunched over her computer working on bills or invoices.  Running and performing in a club were hard work, apparently.

_Ding-dong!_

”whose that?” Weiss asked.  After more than a month of living with the pack, she had never seen anyone approach the front door.

”Over-eager fan?” Neo offered.

”Fans don’t come all the way out to the woods,” May said.

“I will answer it,” Penny offered.

”No,” Arslan said. “I will.” 

“I’ll come with you,” Yatsu said. 

“So will I,” Fox added. 

Marlena looked the two muscled men over and nodded. The trio walked out of the dining room in a V formation, Arslan in front the other two following dutifully behind. 

“Think that might be overkill?” Yang asked.  “Three sculpted athletes just to answer the door?

”If whoever’s at the door wants trouble,” Blake started, but she was cut off as the Bolverk’s voice echoed through the house. 

“Special Agent Ironwood,” she announced, sarcasm thick as syrup in her voice “to what do we owe this pleasure?”

* * *

Coco hung up the phone.  No good.  There was no word amongst the nearest packs of any rogue Werewolf activity in the past couple years.  Granted, that wasn't a definitive answer; it wasn't like Werewolves were a particularly united people.  They were a loose confederation at best, and collection of feudal warring states at worst.  Most Supernaturals were like that, really.  The only races Coco had even heard of that had any real unity were the Fae (maybe—if one was using the very loosest possible definition of the word "unity") or the Halcyon (which probably didn't actually exist).

Right now, though, Coco was kind of wishing Werewolves were more like they were in popular culture and had some kind of worldwide network they could draw on.  Maybe their own police force so that her pack wouldn't be forced to deal with this problem.  Or maybe therapists.  The Ulfric rubbed her eyes.  She leaned back in her chair.  This whole mess was taking a lot out of her. Not only did she have to direct the investigation, she had to do it on top of the regular work she usually did.  On her desk, various bills and shipping orders were spread out, almost covering the desk calendar that showed the club was scheduled to hold their annual photo shoot for advertising.  Had Coco known how much work being the Alpha was, she might not have taken the job.

The Vargulf was probably too far gone to save at this point; she really had no idea how to bring the poor wolf back.  Velvet might be able to heal them, but Coco wasn't sure she liked the idea of her Witch getting intimate with some strange and unstable Lukoi.   It was perhaps possessive, but in her packs, both the one she’d been born into and the one she now led, sex had always been an act of intimacy, of love, and the idea of Velvet rutting with some random Werewolf—one they knew to be dangerous and unstable . . . That did not sit well with the Ulfric.

Which meant that they’d have to kill a fellow Lukoi.  Possibly one who didn’t even know what crimes they were guilty of.  Nice.  Granted, a Vargulf’s Human side would eventually be lost anyway, but it was still an unpleasant job.  Not one she looked forward to doing . . . ever again.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she missed the doorbell ringing.  She did not, however, miss her Bolverk’s introduction.  Nor did she miss her least favorite federal agent’s reply.

”We’re here to speak to Miss Schnee regarding the recent crimes committed in the area.”

Coco got up, her fatigue forgotten.  If Ironwood thought he could question anyone in Coco’s pack without her say-so, he was in for an unpleasant surprise.

* * *

James Ironwood sat in the living room chair.  Across from him sat Weiss Schnee, resident of  Beacon for approximately seven months.  Surrounding the girl on all sides were her packmates.  The Ruby sat to her right on the couch.  On her left was Coco, giving the Special Agent a glare that made Weiss wonder if Werewolves had heat-vision.  Behind her stood her Sire, Blake, with Yang.  The rest of the pack were spread out across the room in a loose semi-circle.   

To his credit, Ironwood seemed unphased by being partially surrounded by if not enemies, than certainly not friends.  “Miss Schnee,” he began, “is it true that you moved to this . . . settlement March of this year?”

”Yes, sir,” Weiss replied.  “I spent the first six months living out of the Puffin-on-the-Rocks motel.”

”And where did you work, may I ask?”

”I was a Valet at Alonzo’s—that’s a steakhouse in Vytal.”

”That’s quite long commute!” Ironwood noted. “Quite costly in terms of gas.”

”I didn’t need to drive much here in town,” Weiss said.  “The Puffin was close enough to Main Street that I wasn’t too inconvinienced.  Beacon isn’t really that large.”

”Unless you count the farms and stuff,” Yang muttered.  It was true; Beacon was very large in terms of geography, but that was counting all the privately owned land belonging to farmers.  And Werewolves.

”You realize that road is officially designated State Road Number 1?” Ironwood asked. “Beacon was built around it, but since Beacon is not an incorporated, recognized town, it can’t renaim that stretch of road.”

”Maybe,” Coco said, “But Main Street sounds better, and it's our home, so we’ll call it what we will.  The post office and the police don’t care.”

Ironwood made an indistinct sound that might have been a growl in other company. “And what hours did you work?” he asked.

”4 p.m. until midnight,” Weiss answered.  “Although I could spend as much as an hour afterwards helping to clean up.”  Hopefully, that gave her an alibi for at least one of the murders.

”We’ll verify with your employers and co-workers, of course,” Ironwood said.  “When did you leave their employ?”

”. . . About a month ago,” she answered.

”I assume you can provide all the details for what she was doing after she came to work for you?” Ironwood asked, turning to Coco. His voice shifted, as though he’d suddenly smelled a dead rat.

“Of course,” the Ulfric replied.

”And why did you change occupations?” The Special Agent asked.

Weiss frowned, trying to think of a reply (she obviously couldn’t say she’d been attacked by a Vampire, Sired by another, and subsequently adopted by a pack of Werewolves), but Arslan of all people beat her to it. ”That seems a little invasive, Agent Ironwood.”

Ironwood grunted but said nothing to the contrary.  "Very well, but tell me, Miss Schnee," Ironwood asked.  "Why would someone of your background choose to live in a . . . place like this?  And in such company?"  It was obvious Ironwood was straining to be barely polite.

”You know my family name?” Weiss asked.  

“It’s come up a time or two in our line of work,” the agent replied.  “Big business names often do.  Maine is a long way away from Washington.”

”This is definitely too personal,” Coco said.

”It’s all right,” Weiss replied.  She gripped Ruby’s hand tightly.  “My family and I don’t get along very well.  I needed a new place to live.”  She didn’t mention Beacon was as far away from Seattle as she could get without living somewhere where the weather was too different.  Or that she thought Beacon was small enough to escape notice, in case they ever started to look for her.

She squeezed Ruby’s hand even more, but the young Lukoi only responded by using her free hand to rub the back of her own.

* * *

Jaune sat down in the living room. “Would you like some water, officers?” the owner asked.

“No thanks, ma’am,” Pyrrha answered professionally.

“Yes, please!” Jaune said. “How are you doing, Ms. Amitola?”

Ilia Amitola looked around the sparsely furnished living room of her small house, shrugged and replied. “Well enough. I might leave, though. This . . . wolf thing, or whatever it is, it’s not as safe here as I thought it’d be.”

”There are dangerous people all over the world, Ms. Amitola,” Pyrrha said. “Beacon has fewer than most.”

”We’ll get this guy, I promise you,” Jaune said.

”I hope so,” Ms. Amitola  said.  Again she looked around the room, and her gaze lingered on the window.  It had an excellent view of the sea, her house being almost on the edge of town.  “I’ve grown to love this place.  I’d hate to have to move again.”

”You moved a lot in the past?” Pyrrha asked.  Supernaturals were often nomadic.  Only some Werewolves and Witches could live in one place for an extended length of time without drawing undue attention mortals.

”I had trouble . . . finding a place to where I felt at home.  Where I felt safe.”

”We’ve all been there,” Jaune said, his tone warm and understanding.

”Agreed,” Pyrrha said neutrally.  She cast her eyes around the room and at the woman herself.  Nothing that looked like it might be silver.  That in itself wasn’t convicting evidence.  But it didn’t help Ms. Amitola either.

”Unfortunately,” she said, “we have to talk to you about those recent incidents, Ms. Amitola.”

”Why?” she asked.  An aggressive note crept into her voice.  “What makes you think I had anything to do with these . . . ‘incidents?’”

”We’re just doing our due-diligence, ma’am,” Jaune offered.  “Our friends from Vytal think it’s a good idea to interview all the newest folks in town.”  He made a _what can you do?_ shrug.  “Anything bad happens within a hundred miles Beacon, they think we were involved somehow.”  His tone took on a begging note.  “We have a lot of people to interview Ms. Amitola.  I promise we want his to be a s quick and painless as you do.”   _Please just us help out, neighbor._ Jaune didn’t say the last bit, but it was there, in the tone of his voice.  

To Pyrrha’s surprise, it seemed to work too.  It would be a step too far to say Ms. Amitola relaxed, but became a little less tense.  “All right,” she said.  “Ask your questions.”

* * *

“You handled her pretty well,” Pyrrha said.

”Huh?” Jaune asked, parking the car in the parking lot of the motel.  It was their last stop.  Would have been their second, but the suspect was away.”

”Ms. Amitola,” Pyrrha said.  “You handled her extremely well.  I don’t think I could have done that.”

”Oh.”  Jaune blushed and looked away.  “It was nothing.  Just, you know, letting them know you’re on their side.  She probably wasn’t the killer.  She only moved here three or four months ago.”  He shrugged.  “I ran some teens off her property once, so I had a connection with her, I guess, but . . .  Look, I know this probably isn’t true for federal agents like you or Ironwood, but about 95% of my job is just making the people who live here feel comfortable with each other.  That they’re safe and . . .”  Jaune shook his head.  “Like I said, it’s probably different from what you’re used to.”

”It is,” Pyrrha agreed quietly as she got out of the car.

Pyrrha watched Jaune walk off to take a walk around the lot.  This was the strategy they’d decided on during the ride. Jaune was going to examine the car tires and whatnot (not the inside of it, of course; they didn’t have a warrant) to see if there was anything suspicious around the area.  While she was the more qualified to do this, the man they were interviewing was a well-known letch—he’d respond better to a pretty girl than a boy with a badge.  Especially one who’d gotten him in trouble more than once for complaints from angry women.

Jaune was better than any cop who lived in a place with Beacon’s reputation should be, she thought. These days you didn’t hear anything on the news about cops that wasn’t bad.  Brutality and quick-trigger fingers and a general sense that society seems to be coming undone.  Officer Arc was living proof that there were still those who wore the badge with honor, who kept their homes and their neighbors safe from one another just as Pyrrha kept them safe from dangers they weren’t aware of.  gave them something to believe in and rely on as he and her kind never could.

* * *

 “You got a problem, baby Vamp?” Coco asked as she tallied another column in the spreadsheet.  Ciel had offered to do the books for her, but Coco has yet to take her up on that.  She was the Ulfric; this was her job.

 Weiss bit her lip.  “I just wanted to say . . . Thank you, for standing up to Ironwood for me.”

”You’ll have to do it yourself, eventually,” Coco said.  “I told you last night, Ironwood dislikes us because he thinks we’re whores, and his friends dislike us because we aren’t.”

”Still, it was . . .”  Weiss paused.  “No one’s done that for me in a while.”

Coco looked away from the computer screen, looking her pack’s newest member in the eye.  Weiss was playing with her hands, trying not to look vulnerable.  “Well, that’s all.  I think I’ll-“

”Why did you leave?”  Coco asked.  Weiss stopped.  “I’m sure Blake or Arslan’s told you we looked you up.  Your family is loaded; why did you leave them?  Without even taking your credit cards, as far as I can tell.”

Weiss thought for a moment before saying.  “Money can’t buy you love.  From your husband or your father.  Or your son or brother.”  Her voice dropped.  “And when you lose one of the few people you can’t afford to lose, you can’t buy them back.”

”Yeah, I guess not,” Coco said.  She stayed quiet for a moment after the Fledgling walked out.  “What do you think?” she asked.

Velvet crawled out from under her desk.  “She’s not wrong,” she said, resting her head on Coco’s lap.  Sadly, she did not resume the activities she’d been performing on Coco’s uncovered crotch when they’d heard Weiss approaching.

Arslan walked out of another door.  “I asked Penny and Ciel to run a background check after Blake spoke to her.”

”And you didn’t tell me the results immediately?” Coco asked.  “Dare I hope you found nothing incriminating?”

Arslan frowned.  “There’s some ‘theories-’”

”You mean gossip,” Coco corrected reaching down to scratch Velvet’s head.

Her Bolverk ignored the interruption.  “-that her mother was murdered.”

Coco straightened up and turned to look her in the eye.  Velvet lifted her head  from her lap.  “By who?” the Ulfric asked.

”Everyone.”  The blonde shrugged.  “No one.  It’s only a theory; officially she fell down the stairs one night.  Exhausted, possibly inebriated according to some rumors.”  Coco just kept standing at her.  “The husband—that would be her father—is the most popular candidate.  Obvious choice, and he has a reputation for . . . coldness of heart.  The son, her baby brother isn’t well liked either, a clone of the man by all indications.  But, in fairness, there are those who suggest she did it.”

”According to who?” Velvet asked.

”On what evidence?” Coco added. 

”The most paranoid conspirators and the type of people who enjoy stirring up trouble,” Arslan replied. “The evidence is self explanatory.”

”Meaning there is none,” Coco translated.  

“There are also those who say she committed suicide, but that seems unlikely given she fell down stairs not out a window,” the Bolverk offered.

”Whatever happened, it obviously hurt Weiss a lot,” Velvet noted, resettling her head against Coco’s lap.  “Along with whatever life was like before she lost her mother.”

Coco _hmmm_ -ed when the phone rang.  “Hello? Jaune?”

 _“Coco?  Hi.”_ his voice came through the phone. _“Listen, Ironwood has us run around and interview everyone who’s moved to Beacon within the past year.”_

“That explains why he came interrogate my newest waitress this afternoon,” Coco drawled.  “I appreciate the early warning, Officer.”

 _”I’m sorry,”_ Jaune said. _“He had me and Agent Nikos together all day doing interviews.  I didn’t have the chance to call before now.”_ Coco grimaced And dialed back the snark.

”All right.  I presume your not going to apologize because a well-known ass decided to harass my . . . Employees?”

_“I thought his idea was probably wrong, but it might still be worth checking out.  One of my interviewees was, well, kind of off.  I sent you an email.”_

“Hmm.”  Coco checked her email and saw a new one from blondecop#1.  She clicked it.  Inside were a list of names.  Not in alphabetical order.  “I take you’re talking about Ilia Amitola?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! More mythology! I love developing the lore of this world and sharing it with you all. I hope this makes up for the long wait I put you all through.
> 
> Coco doesn't eat the most Werewolf-healthy lunch. Lukoi need A LOT of calories, so I can only imagine how many packages of snacks she has to go through. Probably not a very good idea economically.
> 
> Pyrrha obviously has it baaaaad for Jaune-y boy.
> 
> Some of you are probably wondering what Sun and Neptune are getting up to. We’ll find out later. Short version: nothing fun for our heroes.
> 
> Ah, Weiss . . . We’ll find out what really happened to her mother next chapter, but her family situation will be a subject we return to throughout the series.


	8. Episode Eight: Confrontations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1ST WARNING: Longtime readers might notice some inconsistencies here, namely that the “Werewolves can only safely transform on the Full Moon" rule is implied to be violated. Well, yeah, I decided that was just too limiting, so I’m dropping it. Also, it’s too tied into the HEMLOCK GROVE mythos, so I couldn’t use it if I ever want to publish this for real, which, spoilers, I do. 
> 
> Yes, it is my hope to one day re-edit this mess and release it as the start of an original, published series. I occurred to me a while back that I wasn’t so much using the HEMLOCK GROVE mythos as I was making my own, and the characters were differing dramatically from what they were on the show, I figured, why not. Granted, this will probably be years in the future, so don’t go checking your local bookshops anytime soon. Maybe this was a waste of time to tell y’all now, but it’s kind of a big deal for me. 
> 
> 2ND WARNING: This chapter opens with angst! Lots of angst.

”Hey, Weiss.”  The Fledgling turned and lifted her head toward the door. She saw Ruby peeking, her normally bright eyes looking dim and dull like dying lightbulbs.  Weiss felt her already low mood drop even more.  “Want some company?”

”Sure,” Weiss answered fdroppkng her head back down on the pillows.

She continued looking at the ceiling, but she heard Ruby softly pad into the room then felt the bed dip as the pup sat down on the edge.  The. Empire mused that this was probably the most intimate she had ever been with another person in her life, though from how touchie-feelie the pack seemed to be, Weiss guessed this was the Werewolf equivalent of sitting on the far side of the room.  The two sat/lay in silence for a few moments before Ruby spoke again. “You know my mother died, Weiss?” Ruby asked.  

The Vampire felt her heart drop again. ”No.  I didn’t.”

”She did.  She was killed by hunters.”

Weiss sat up on the bed. ”You mean poachers?  Or . . . ”  One of Blake’s first lessons came back to her.  There were Humans who knew of the existence of supernatural beings like them, and these people made it their business to find and exterminate their kind.  They were rare, but they were very dangerous.  

”No, Weiss.  I mean the other kind,” Ruby said, confirming the Vampire’s fears.  Ruby went on.  “She was looking after me and some of the other kids; I was about 14.”

Weiss swallowed.  “What happened?” she asked.

Ruby took a deep breath.  “There were a lot of them—at least six or seven.  We were out in the woods playing.  Me and the older kids were just learning to transform.  We did it for fun.  Mom . . . She sensed them, somehow.  Told us to run.  Then they began firing silver-tipped arrows at us.  We ran back to the meeting place.  Mom . . . transformed and ran the opposite way.  She made a lot of noise.  They followed her.”  Ruby was silent for a while.  Panting.  “We made it back to the camp.  Some of them stayed with us kids. Dad, Raven, and the others all went out.  I heard later they killed the hunters.  All of them.  But it was too late.  Mom was dead—a silver arrow in her neck.  We cut her head off and buried her.”

”I’m sorry, Ruby,” Weiss whispered.  Without realizing how it happened, she found herself sitting next to the russet haired girl on the edge of the mattress.  The Vampire reached over and took the Lukoi’s hands in her own.  

Ruby leaned her head on the Fledgling’s shoulder.  They were silent for a moment.  Ruby didn’t cry; it was too old a wound for that.  Time has dulled the pain even if it could never erase it.  Ruby had come to accept that her mother was gone and was no longer there (in flesh at least) to share in the major events of her life.  She hadn’t hugged and kissed Ruby and Yang goodbye when they left the pack of their birth to join Coco’s burgeoning one, nor when Ruby had lost her virginity to her new packmates.  She hadn’t been able to answer any of Ruby’s questions about what it would mean for the sisters’ relationship when Yang had become Blake’s bitch, or now that Ruby herself was struggling with that complicated set of emotions to another Vampire.  Or how Ruby could do her part to help raise Velvet’s expected child.  Ruby knew her mother was looking down on her from above and felt her love every day, but sometimes old wounds still throb.

Weiss bit her lip before breaking the silence.  ”Ruby, do you know how my mother died?”

”I heard it was in an accident.  Blake and Yang were discussing it, but Nora overheard and . . .”

”Everyone knows.”  The carrot-haired cook was not known for being able to keep quiet.  Figuratively or literally.

”Yeah.  So . . . I heard she fell down the stairs, but I’ve also heard that’s a lie Humans use to cover-up abuse, and—“

”And you’re wondering if my father killed her?”  Weiss shook her head.  “I’ve heard it before.  The thing is, it’s true, but not the way everyone thinks it is.”  Ruby looked at her, confused and concerned and Weiss took a deep breath to steel herself.  She’d gone over the words a million times in her head.  She’d always been desperate to tell someone, and yet she’d never thought she’d find someone she could share this with.

“My mother wasn’t always an alcoholic; she used to be a vibrant, beautiful woman who loved life—and her children.  She had a warm smile and a beautiful voice, and she was always ready to embrace everyone. Then she found out my father was having an affair.”

Ruby was stunned silent.  She understood the concept of infidelity, but it was one of many human customs she couldn’t wrap her head around.  Why did so many humans want to rut with partners they didn’t love?  Why were they so eager to break each other’s hearts?  “Why?” she asked.

Weiss shrugged.  “Because he was selfish and arrogant enough to think he could get away with it.”  She continued.  “She found out, and . . . It broke her.  She tried to hold it together for a while, confined her drinking to night, to help her sleep, but then it got worse.  I guess she’d developed a tolerance or something, or maybe she just stopped caring for the charade, and had to drink more and more.  Soon, she spent all her time either drunk or sleeping off her drinking.”  Weiss’ face screwed up in a mix of shame and sorrow and anger and hate.  “It was only a matter of time; if she hadn’t fallen down those stairs, she would have died of liver failure or some such before long.  I doubt I had another year with her.”

Ruby wrapped her arms around the Fledgling, pulling close.  Weiss returned the embrace, hugging Ruby as tightly as she could. The two women nuzzled each other, breathing in one another’s scents.  Ruby placed a gentle kiss on Weiss’ head.  The Vampire looked up.  Looking into her packmate’s eyes, she saw concern, compassion, respect, desire, and . . . something else.  Something she wasn’t ready to name just yet.

Ruby leaned in.  Slowly.  Ever so slowly, giving her all the time she needed to pull away or say no if she wanted to.  But, Weiss didn’t want to.  She wanted to feel something good and sweet to wash away the bitterness of her past.  But more than that, she wanted to know the taste of Ruby’s lips. Wanted to explore the feelings the young Wolf inspired within her.  Wanted to know if that “something” she saw in Ruby’s eyes was what she thought it was.

The kiss was soft and gentle.  Unlike the rough, passionate kisses, she often witnessed other Wolves share, Ruby’s lips pressed against hers like pillows wrapped in silk.  They tasted of strawberries and chocolate and other sweets, and Weiss felt herself respond to the gentle pressure and the flavor.

The pair slowly increased the pressure of their kiss.  Their hands came up to rub each other’s shoulders.  When they broke away for breath, they were embracing properly.  Ruby panted gently in suppressed excitement, her cheeks flushed.  No matter how many times she’d nuzzled and cuddled or even made love to her packmates, this was new territory.  She loved them yes, but not like this.

Weiss was also panting, but not so gently.  She was breathing heavily, an excitement and a hunger rising within her chest.  A need she couldn’t deny or control.  Shifting her hips, she twisted them both around, pinning Ruby beneath her.  The Lukoi let out a quiet cry, but didn’t struggle against her.  In fact, she looked—and smelled—quite happy with their new position. It famed the flames of Weiss’ hunger.  She bent down a kissed Ruby again, harder this time.  Ruby moaned against her mouth, opening her own to allow Weiss greater access.  Their tongues met and danced, weighed against each other like a pair of lovers.  The Vampire broke the kiss and rained more down on the Wolf’s cheek, her jawline, down to her neck.  Instinctively, Weiss licked the older/younger woman’s neck.  She opened her mouth lay claim to her mate . . .

The door slammed open and Weiss screamed and roared as a strong hand gripped her ponytail and yanked back.  Hard.

”Get off my sister, Baby Vamp!”  Yang’s voice echoed in her ear, and her strong arms began forcing Weiss and Ruby apart.  Meanwhile, the arm yanking Weiss’ hair continued to pull. “Actually, wait.  Don’t get her off!”

”We weren’t doing anything!” The redhead yelled.  She squirmed underneath Weiss, but given how much stronger her sister was, this accomplished nothing except to turn Weiss on even more.

”Only because we interrupted you,” Blake said, revealing herself as the one pulling Weiss’ ponytail.  “Yang, be a dear and take your sister somewhere else.”

”Sure thing, Blake-y,” Yang said, picking her struggling sister up bridal style and carrying her out.

”But Ya-a-ang!” Ruby whined.  Yang replied by leaning down to bit her ear.  Ruby whimpered but stopped protests.

”Dammit, Blake!  Let go of my hair!” Weiss yelled.  Her Sire acquiesced to her request.  Weiss twisted around and backed away from her.  “What was that about?”

The older Vampire remained perfectly calm.  “What were you about to do?” She asked.

Weiss’ scowl deepened in response, before she realized the answer to the question.  “I was about to bite her . . .” she whispered.  Blake nodded in agreement.  Weiss turned and looked out her window.  “But . . . It’s still daylight out!”  Turning back to her Sire, her breath hitched.  “Blake, I . . .  What’s wrong with me?  Why is my hunger so strong?”

”It might not be,” Blake replied.  “Tell me, Weiss, what was going through your mind at that moment?  We’re you hungry?  Did you want to feed?”

Weiss thought about the question.  “No,” she answered.  “I wasn’t hungry . . . It was more . . . possessive?”

Blake nodded. “Have you ever seen Yang’s cat tattoo?”

”Yes,” Weiss replied; she had seen it, a black and purple feline sitting proudly against the flesh of the blond’s thigh. “I thought it had something to do with being your bitch.”

Blake nodded. “It does. It marks her as mine.” Weiss looked at her, and Blake explained. “Vampires are pretty possessive and instinctively dominant. It’s how we are. We’re not hardwired for monogamy or anything, but . . .” She shrugged. “You probably wouldn’t have really hurt her—Humans survive our bites, and Wolves are tougher than Humans, but there’s no reason to take that chance. Besides, it’d just make things awkward for a while.” She paused before adding, “Coco wouldn’t like it either.”

Weiss frowned. “So I’m going to . . . Attack anyone I like?”

“Hardly. You were obviously highly aroused.”  To her credit, she ignored her Fledgling’s blush.  “ As I said, you’ll learn to control it.  Just give it time.” Blake frowned. “Are you all right, Weiss?”

The young Vampire had drawn her legs inwrapped her arms around herself.  “I’ll be fine,” Weiss said. That wasn’t quite a lie, even if it wasn’t the whole truth.

Blake nodded. After a moment, she spoke again. “You know, Weiss, just because you can’t sleep with her, that doesn’t mean you can’t ask her out.”

“I can?” Weiss asked, surprising herself at how eager she was.

Her Sire smiled in a way that reminded her of her older sister or maybe her mother . . . in the before times.

* * *

Yang carried Ruby back into her room.  Dropping the pup down on her bed, the blonde frowned at her.  “Ruby . . . Have you lost it?”

”Come on, Yang!” Ruby cried.  Weiss has been with us forever!”

”Bull!  She’s been with us for three months, and that’s rounding up!” Yang countered.  “Coco still hasn’t given the OK yet, Blake hasn’t said she’s safe enough to be with yet, and, most importantly, you barely know her!”

”I know I’m in love with her!” Ruby snapped.

Yang stared at her.  “You sure, sis?” She asked, quietly now.

Ruby nodded.  “I am.  I’m even more sure than I was when Coco came to our pack and asked us to join hers.  I love her, Yang.  I want to be her bitch.”

Yang breathed deeply.  Well, what did she say to that?  She knew this wasn’t puppy love (pun intended). Lukoi were far more in touch with their emotions than Humans were; they knew when they were feeling true affection and closeness to another and when it was just empty lust.  And Ruby was more aware than most.  If her little sis said she loved the Fledgling, Yang knew it was true.  To tell the truth, Yang was falling for the baby Vamp herself, though she wasn’t quite as sold as Ruby was. Weiss was smart, determined, a little quick to judge but always willing to make up for her mistakes, as well as being cute enough to eat, but as a Vampire, Weiss could leave them much more easily than they could leave her. 

”And what if she doesn’t want to stay, Ruby?” Yang asked, gently now.  “You know she’s a Vampire—she isn’t wired the same way we are.”

Ruby huffed.  “According to legend—“

”Forget the legends!” Yang snapped.  “No one knows if they’re real or not!  I don’t buy it!  No Witch is that powerful!”

”. . . What Witch?” Weiss asked.

The sisters whipped their heads around.  The door opened to reveal Blake and Weiss.  “You were getting rather loud, my dear,” Blake said.

”Eh, you like it when I’m loud,” Yang said casually. 

Weiss fought a blush.  Would she ever get used to how forward these people were?  “Yes, well.  Ruby,” she said.  “I was wondering if . . . That is if you’d like to . . . Maybe go out with me?”  Weiss cringed at how dopey she sounded.  Like the lead in a generic romcom.  Even if it was the first time she’d ever done the asking surely she could do better than that.

Ruby, however, beamed like a child who’d just been told she could eat cookies until she got sick.  “Of course, I will, Weiss!  You mean like a date, right?  Oh, please say you mean a date.”

Weiss flushed again but nodded.  “Yes, Ruby, like a date.”

”Awesome!  When are we going?  Oh, where are we going?  Should I dress up?”

Yang was less thrilled than her sister.  “Not to play the downer here, but are we sure the Baby Vamp is _ready_ for dating?”

Weiss felt her ego drop and shatter like fine china at the blonde's words.  Thankfully, Blake had foreseen the argument.  “I was thinking we could make it a double date,” she said, smoothly.  “You and I could look after Weiss, and possibly have a little fun ourselves.”

Yang stroked her chin.  “Babysit the pup and the Fledgling while getting to spend a few hours romancing my favorite dark-haired Vampire?” She appeared to ignore her baby sister’s pleading expression.  “Tempting.”

Blake smiled.  “We could start at Scarlet and Sage’s on the beach and see where we feel like going from there.”

”Oh, yeah!” Ruby exclaimed.  “Weiss still hasn’t seen much of the town yet, have you?” she asked, switching to the platinum blonde halfway through her question.  “There’s so much to see, and we know it all!  There’s the Museum-it’s not really a museum just a pawnshop that doesn’t sell anything—and Carter’s Point, and you’ve never seen the Emerald Forest in the daytime have you?”

The four continued to plan out their date.  Weiss couldn’t contribute much, but Yang saw the Fledgling was smiling at the ideas offered and felt her own smile widen.  Maybe things would turn out all right with the baby Vamp after all.

* * *

Despite the events of earlier that afternoon, the Pack was in good spirits as they headed to the club that night.  

It didn’t last long.

The Wolves pulled up to the parking lot to discover it was filled with official-looking vehicles with “FBI” plastered on their sides.  Yellow tape surrounded the property, blocking their entrance.  And standing in front of it all, looking so smug it was crime no one had punched him yet was Special Agent Sun Wukong.

Coco scowled and marched up to the smug blonde.  Arslan, her Bolverk, and her two bouncers fell into place behind her.  “What the f—crap is going on here?” She asked.  Only a general respect for public decency holding her tongue back.

All credit to the federal agent’s intelligence, Sun smug expression dropped a bit in the face of Coco’s scorn.  He tried to recover his position.  “I’m sorry, _madam,”_ and the inflection in his voice made it clear what type of “madam” he thought of Coco as, “but this building is off-limits pending investigation.”  A touch of smugness returned.  “Trespassers will be prosecuted.”

”On what grounds are you investigating our place of work?” Yatsu asked.  He spoke politely, but at his size it still came off like a rumble of thunder.

Sun swallowed but replied “I’m sorry, but I can’t comment on an on-going investigation.”

Fox snorted, and Coco has some choice words for the Agent but then things went from bad to worse.  Neptune burst out of the building and shouted “Sun, you’ve got to come see this!”

The blonde ran off to join him, and Coco turned and corralled her security force back to rest of the pack.  Most of them wore angry or concerned expressions.  Reese however was speaking into her cell phone.

”It’s not your fault, Jaune . . . Bye.”  She hung up and spoke to Coco.  “Jaune didn’t know this was going on.  Neither did Port, apparently.”

”Figures,” Coco muttered.  “Ironwood must be pissed.”

”Either that or his pets are over what happened last night,” Fox commented “looking” up at Yatsu.  The giant looked sheepish, but made no reply.

”Yeah, or some combination thereof,” the Ulfric concluded.  “Not important.  What matters is what they found.  Does anyone have anything in the building that might raise some red flags?”

”Blood pudding,” Weiss whispered.

Ren shook his head.  “No, we can pass that off as a protein supplement or something; there’s nothing illegal in it.”

”I keep some of my supplies there,” Velvet said.  “In case of an emergency.  But nothing contraband or anything too eye-catching.”

”I hid some old knick-knacks under the floor boards,” Blake said.  “People might wonder where they came from, but I don’t think that old junk would make them this excited.”

Coco turned to her Bolverk.  The pack had been together for long enough for her to notice when the other woman tense and worried.  “Arslan, what don’t you want to say?”

”. . . I hid some weapons in the changing room, in case we were ever attacked.”

”What sort of weapons?” Coco asked, her stomach dropping.

”A couple of machetes.  Some big knives.  A shotgun or two.”  She shrugged.  “Just enough to make me look like a serial killer.”

The rest of the pack was . . . concerned.  “Are they well-hidden?” May asked.

”No, I needed them to be in easy reach,” Arslan admitted.

”What’d you need them for anyway?” Fox asked.  “Me and Yatsu are already armed.”  

“With pepper spray, batons, and tasers,” Arslan said.  “Enough to control rowdy patrons.  Maybe an armed robber or two, but if a team of hunters or a Supernatural burst in . . .”

”You were worried that might happen?” Ciel asked.  “It’s an extremely unlikely occurrence.”

”Until it actually happens,” Arslan replied.  “It’s my job to protect the pack, and I will carry out that responsibility regardless of any inconvenience or danger to myself.”

”Can they prove it was your’s?” Ruby asked.  “Maybe we could . . . I don’t know, do something?”  The pup looked pretty upset, and Cox didn’t begrudge Weiss when the Fledgling took her hand.

”They have my fingerprints on them,” Arslan said.  “Besides I won’t ask any of you to take the fall for me.”  She turned aplomb with the rest of the pack to see Sun and Neptune walking towards them looking much too pleased with themselves. “This is my mistake.  I must deal with the consequences.”

”Not alone you don’t,” Coco said, moving to stand slightly in front of her Bolverk as the agents approached.

* * *

Coco looked at her assembled forces.  It was late.  She was sure Ironwood and his flunkies has dragged their interrogation out as long as they could, despite the protests of Port and Jaune.  And even their own fellow Agent, Agent Nikos. Arslan had confessed to owning the weapons immediately, although they’d all had to endure being questioned and fingerprinted and would probably have to go through more of the same the next day.  It was only after Ironwood tried to get their DNA taken (which wouldn’t have opened another can of worms so much as it would have set off an atomic explosion), that Coco put her foot down and threatened to get her lawyer involved that he backed off.  He was, unfortunately, still keeping Arslan locked in a holding cell while they ran tests on her weapons.  

The old bastard had wanted to keep all of them, but Nikos had finally managed to convince him that was a step too far.  Ironwood has also wanted to ship his lone suspect off to an FBI cell in Vytal, but Port had argued that was unnecessary.  The cells of the State Police building would be sufficient to keep her under observation, and it was a bit much to take a suspect so far on such flimsy evidence.  Ironwood had argued that the building had been compromised once already, but Port had countered that the morgue was not a holding cell, and he was perfectly willing to assign a twenty-four hour guard to Arslan until the matter resolved one way or the other. 

Coco had learned all this from Jaune. Port had won the argument and had re-assigned the blonde officer to look after the blonde stripper.  That was a small relief, but a real one.  It meant Arslan was being watched by someone who believed her innocent.  Ren had promised to supply them both with dinner, along with Port for his part in things.  The Ulfric thought they were probably breaking some kind of proceedure, but such were how things ran in a small town.

With the situation with Arslan out of their control, Coco decided to go on the offensive.  Although she wasn’t happy to have her club still under investigation  (and there was no way that wasn’t an act of spite), but it did come with one unexpected advantage.  With the club closed, there was nothing to keep them from investigating Miss Ilia Amitola.

That was how Coco came to be crouching in the trees behind Miss Amitola’s house with a hand-picked team of Wolves. It would have been too conspicuous to bring the entire pack (besides which they needed to leave a few benhind in case Ironwood was able to drum up another excuse to come bother them).  The Ulfric had chosen her group with care:  Velvet, Yatsuhashi, Fox, Penny, Ciel, and Neon.  Not perhaps the most intimidating strike-force ever assembled but strong enough for the task at hand.  She’d wished she’d brought Blake along with them for this mission; the Vampire’s venomous bite would have been a great asset to them, but . . .  Coco liked Weiss, she really did.  The Fledgling was hard working, and whatever her reasons for fleeing to Beacon, there was no malice in her.  Despite her obvious discomfort with the pack’s relationship dynamics, she was blending well with them.  Even the hard-line anti-Vamp wolves Arslan and May were starting to bond with her.  The Ulfric thought there was a pretty good chance their protege would become a true packmate given time.

All that being the case, she still didn’t trust the Fledgling on her own just yet.  Coco may not have carried the same personal grudges against the undead that Arslan and May did, but that didn’t mean she was totally naive.  She knew a thing or two about learning to control feral instincts, and though Weiss hadn’t attacked anyone yet, that didn’t mean she’d truly mastered herself.  Besides, Blake insisted she wasn’t ready yet, and Coco trusted the older Vampire’s insight regarding her own kind and her own Fledgling.

So, Blake was at home on “Weiss duty” while Coco took a handful of carefully selected Lukoi with her to confront a potentially murderous lone Wolf.  Ah, the joys of being Ulfric.  If she’d known being the Alpha was this hard, she’d have gotten someone else to take the job. 

They were all dressed down for the night.  The Ulfric herself wore a tank top that exposed the ring in her navel, along with black-bike shorts, and a pair of black boots.  They were also all armed.  Coco and most of the others had large knives—some with more than one—while Ciel had a hatchet, and Yatsu was armed with a Kyber knife.  All of the blades had been coated with silver.  Velvet was the lone exception, having packed her Witch supplies instead of traditional weaponry.

The Lukoi sniffed around the house, carefully, since there was a light on in the window and a human shadow sitting in a chair.  They were in Human form, so their senses weren’t as good as they could be, but they were sharp enough.  The scent around the house wasn’t precisely Werewolf; it was off, somehow, but it was close enough.  Motioning for her packmates to fall in behind her, Coco drew her knife and slowly approached the door . . .

* * *

Ilia sat in her chair reading a book while smooth jazz played in the background, a cup of sweet iced tea at her side.  She needed to calm down—those cops earlier . . . They had made her uneasy.  Nervous.  And that was bad.  Nervous made _it_ wake up.  She could feel the beast roiling in her stomach.  Thus the jazz.  Thus, the tea.  And thus, the familiar words of Old Possum in her hands to calm her down.  She’d spent years learning how to calm herself—and thus calm _the beast—_ down.  

Ilia took a drink of her tea.  She should probably move soon.  There were rumors about this town about . . . others, and with those dead bodies . . .

The beast twisted and writhed within her again, and the mottle-skinned brunette forced herself to go back to her book.  It was always worse at night.  She just needed to stay calm until she went to bed.  She’d think more about it in the morning.

_Macavity, Macavity,_

_There’s no one like Macavity._

_He’s broken every human law—_

_He breaks the law of gravity._

“Broken every human law.”  And the laws of nature too.  Ilia put her book down and rubbed her eyes.  That line wasn’t as fun anymore.  Hadn’t been since—

_Knock!  Knock!  Knock!_

The sound of knocking at her front door made the young woman jump.  Who could be bothering her now?  She’d been careful not to become close to anyone, not to develop friendships or start dating.  It was safer that way—safer for her and definitely safer for everyone else.  Curious, she put her book down and opened the door.  A strange scent hit her nose, one she’d smelled before throughout town but had never been able to pin down where it came from, one both strange and yet inescapably familiar, one that made her feel both threatened and nostalgic at once.

She only had a moment to recognize the scent before the person on the other side of the door slammed into her like a bulldozer, shoving her against a nearby wall.  Ilia felt something hot and metal against her neck and realized it must have been silver.  A silver knife was held to her throat.

”Hello, bitch,” the knife wielder said.  As Ilia’s senses returned to her, she realized she knew the woman who was speaking to her—everyone in this town did.  They knew the women and men behind her too.  It was Coco Adel, queen of the local strip club and a collection of her cohorts.  “We need to talk.”

* * *

The potential Vargulf didn’t look as though she was expecting them.  In fact, Coco thought she looked scared and confused.  Against her better judgement, she backed the knife away from the woman’s neck.  The woman didn’t seem to notice; she remained stiff and wide-eyed.  The Ulfric stiffled a groan.  Instead, she growled.  “I said we need to talk.”

The woman seemed to awake.  “About what?”  She was trying to be defiant, to channel her obvious fear into anger.  Coco couldn’t help but like her.

Perhaps that’s why Penny took over questioning.  The girl was even better at being blunt than Coco was. “Are you aware of the damage you’ve been doing?  Not only to the people of our home but to our kind’s very existence as well?”  

”What?” The mottled-skinned Woman asked.  “You mean you-you’re . . . ?”

”Like you?” Neon asked, coming up.  She smiled.  “Yep.”

”Except we control ourselves,” Fox said.  “We don’t go around killing people.”

”You don’t . . .” She shook her head changing the subject.  “You think I’m responsible for the killings?”

”You’re not?” Coco asked.  “Velvet, what color was the Wolf’s fur?” She asked.

“Dark,” Velvet answered.  I’m sorry, I couldn’t see it that well, but I think it was darker than hers.”

Coco’s crown increased just a little.  That didn’t necessarily exonerate Ilia; Lukoi often had darker fur in Wolf form.  “Can you prove your innocence?  Do you have an alabi?  Anything?”

”I lock myself up in the basement during the full moon!” Ilia cried.

”What?” Coco asked.  “You do that?”

”It explains why she’s escaped our notice until now,” Ciel remarked.  “But to imprison herself in Wolf form . . .”

“It seems really boring,” Neon whined.

”Not to mention VERY unhealthy psychologically,” Velvet said.  Coco could practically hear the Witch’s brow furrowing in thought.  “Just as living alone without a pack is.”

”Why don’t you run free?” Yatsu asked.  “Are you concerned with detection?”

”And why did you not know about us?” Penny asked.  “Why have you not asked to join our pack?  Do you not have one of your own?”

”Run free?  Join?” Ilia gasped.  “You don’t contain yourselves?  You mean you actually like this, this curse?”

”It’s not a curse,” Velvet said, gently.  “It’s . . .

”A blessing?  A gift?”  Ilia laughed, a painful, horrible sound.  Coco was sure whether to stand back or put the knife closer.  “This is _worse_ than a curse!  This is God stamping us beneath His boot!”

Ilia screamed in pain, and Coco wondered if—perhaps—she would have to end the poor, confused fellow Wolf's life then and there.  But she hesitated, and because she hesitated, she saw something she had not expected to see.  Ciel moved in to swing her hatchet into the suspected Vargulf’s face, but Coco grabbed her arm and pulled her back.  The assembled Lukoi could all see it now.  Ilia's flesh split open as their own did in transformation, but it didn't reveal a furry pelt underneath.  Instead, what emerged were green-brown scales.  Reptilian scales.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. I stole George’s line from BEING HUMAN (the UK version). I always thought it was such a good line—so perfectly exemplifiying how George views his condition and how deep his angst goes. I’ll eventually have to change it when I do publish this mess, but for now I’m using it. 
> 
> Yes, I’ve added pictures. To back to the past chapters, and you’ll see a few there, too. This one is of the Kanima from TEEN WOLF. When this was still just a fanfic I was planning to use it. I just loved this idea of something going wrong with a Werewolf internally and turning them into a lizard person instead of a wolf.
> 
> Silver-tipped arrows? Why not silver bullets? I read in the comments of the excellent webcomic HOW TO BE A WEREWOLF (read it), that MYTH BUSTERS proved that those aren’t actually a very good idea; silver bullets are heavy and so don’t work well over long distances and don’t deform and get stuck in the body the way lead bullets do—they just punch right through. An arrow (or, at least an arrowhead) can get stuck in the Werewolf or Vampire and continue hurting them.


	9. Episode Nine: A Wrinkle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we finally learn what’s up with Ilia. Fair warning, though, it’s really dark. Darker than I ever thought it’d be before I wrote it.

Ren dropped Arslan and Jaune’s dinner off before returning to the house.  Said he was needed at home tonight.  Jaune thanked him awkwardly.  Despite the assurances of Coco, Reese, and Arslan herself, he still felt as though he were betraying a sacred trust.

”Let it go, Jaune,“ Ren said, before he left.  “You’re not the one we blame.”

So now, Jaune sat in a chair beside the small holding cell Arslan had been placed in.  Opening the bag, he dug out a trio of club sandwiches.  One he kept in his lap, while the other two he passed through the bars to his incarcerated friend.  Ren had also packed a couple of those lunchbox single-serving containers of peanut butter along with apple slices for each of them, string cheese, and a couple of zip-lock bags of homemade chocolate chip and pecan cookies.  As with the sandwiches, Jaune knew to pass the larger servings to the woman he was ostensibly guarding.

”Sorry about this,” Jaune said, taging a bite of his sandwich.

”Stop apologizing, Officer.  You’re not the one at fault,” Arslan said, digging into her food with more gusto.  Jaune had no idea where she put it all; to eat much as she did, she should’ve been twice the size she was.  Then again, he’d given up trying to figure out how the employees of the Veil Cafe worked a long time ago, and now probably wasn’t the time to try restart bad habits.  “Ironwood is a judgemental bastard,” she went on.  “He’s always wanted an excuse to throw any number of us behind bars.  You know he hates the entire town.”

”Yeah, I’ve heard that,” Jaune said with a laugh.  “You know he questioned me?”

“I heard,” Arslan said.  The two sat in silence for a few minutes.  Then she spoke again.  “Did you know he got Port investigated once?”

”No.  Really?”

Arslan nodded.  “It was before your time.  About five years ago . . .”

* * *

Coco was really wishing she’d brought Blake and Yang with her right now.  Heck, she’d like having the baby Vamp right about now.   An extra set of venomous teeth would be a nice advantage against whatever the heck she was up against.  The warped Komodo dragon that had once been their only suspect had collapsed onto all fours.  Hissing and snarling, she plowed into Ciel and Penny, knocking them to the ground.  Fox had better reflexes, however, and tackled the beast, rolling around on the floor until he was on his back, holding the monster to his chest, blunting its strength.

Neon ran up with her knife, but the . . . _thing_ twisted and turned like a writhing snake and bit Fox’s arm.  The usually stoic man screamed in pain and let go.  The monster slithered out of his grip and dashed away from Neon, back into the interior of the house. 

“Fuck!” Coco spat.  “Follow the overgrown iguana!”  As the others barreled after the creature, she paused to check her downed comrade.  “Fox, are you good?”

The other Lukoi was trying to get up as he answered. ”Sure-errr!” Fox gripped his arm in pain, collapsing to the ground again.

”Fox!” The Ulfric yelled.  She saw the Pack’s Witch descend on him.  “Velvet?”

Th witch sniffed the wound.  She even licked it before spitting the blood out against the wall.  “It’s venomous,” she said, spitting again.  “Like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”  She pulled out a flask from her bag and began pouring the contents on the injured area.  It hissed on contact, and the wound began releasing steam or smoke.  The women backed away, gagging at the scent.  Velvet paled.  “This is bad, Coco.  I don’t think my usual cures will work on him.”

”What do we do?” The Ulfric asked, angry.  Her heart was pounding in her chest as though it was about to explode.  She couldn’t lose one of her Wolves to this.  No, no, not again.  No, no, no, no . . .

”I need a sample of the venom!” Velvet said, shoving an empty test tube into Coco’s hands.  “Go!  I’ll do what I can, but you need to hurry!  If you don’t get back soon, I’ll have to amputate!”

Coco didn’t need telling twice.  She dashed off after pack.  She didn’t have to look for them; the sounds of fighting drew her in.  She ran through the house, through the halls, the living room, back into the bedroom.  That’s where the fighting was.  While she was back with Fox and Velvet, Penny and Ciel had shed their own skins and now a pair of large wolves were dancing with the lizard-creature:  darting forward, swiping with their claws, snapping at the air with their jaws, jumping back when the beast tried to do the same.  It wasn’t perfect though; the scent of blood was in the air, Wolf blood.

Edging up to Yatsuhashi, who was trying to find an opening to slash or stab with his khyber knife without injuring his comrades, she asked.  “Have they been bitten?”

He shook his head.  “Not yet.  Only scratched.”

”The damn claws hurt though,” Neon growled.  Her own leg bore the scratches to prove it.  “How’s Fox?”

“Velvet needs a sample of venom,” Coco said.  “Any ideas how to get it without getting bit?”  That question just became harder as the monster scuttled underneath the bed.  Penny and Ciel almost followed after it, but wisely stopped short of the actual furniture.  The blankets hung low to the floor; it was impossible to see where exactly the thing was.  Coco groaned.  “We don’t have time for this!”

”I have an idea,” Yatsu said.  “The bed is against the wall.  Penny and Ciel have one side covered . . .”  The large man strode forward, knelt down, and jabbed forward under the bed with his knife.  The monster hissed but dashed out the other side, headed to the closet.  The Wolves jumped over the bed after it.  The monster turned to snarl at them again, but Neon took everyone by surprise, darting forward and blindsiding the thing with a kick to the head.

The blow from the hiking boot sent it reeling, but the thing recovered fast and swiped Neone’s legs out from under her with it’s claws.  It opened its mouth to bite her, but Ciel kept forward and fastened her jaws around its neck.  The creature hissed and thrashed.  It was freakishly flexible and actually managed to get its claws up to slash at Ciel’s sides and belly, but Penny jumped in and caught one leg in her own fangs, digging her claws in and yanking it back.

”Don’t kill it!” Coco called.  “Yatsu, the chain!”

The giant dropped his knife and reached into his backpack.  Unlike the others, he wore leather work gloves on his hands.  THey were a necessary precaution, as he withdrew a heavy silver-coated chain from his bag.  He advanced to secure the creature’s back legs first, but the long tail lashed against his leg with lightning speed.  There was an awful snap, and Yatsu cried out, falling to his knees.

Coco didn’t think.  She reached down to lift the heavy knife, more of a sword really, and hefted it in both hands.  She couldn’t lift it very high, but she didn’t need to.  Aiming as well as she could, she stabbed at the thing’s tail.  It didn’t penetrate very far, but the silver-edged blade drew a reassuring hiss and smoke from the wound and a satisfying scream from the monster.  She heard a clink and a muffled scream behind her and, turning, saw Neon pick up the silver chain in her bare hands, thin straps of smoke erupting from the contact, she lunged forwad and began trying to wrap the chain around the thing’s leg.

More steam was released as the monster’s exertions increased.  The tail almost tore itself free of the knife’s grip, but Yatsuhashi, clearly favoring one leg, half-lunged, half-fell onto the base of the appendage, and together, they were able to control it as Neon forced the chain around its limbs.

Now more or less hog-tied, the injured, smoking monster was screaming a horrible, high-pitched scream, but it couldn’t escape Ciel’s jaws.

“Bitch hates silver, at least,” Neon growled.  She was sitting against the wall, exhausted.

Coco picked up the test tube she’d dropped when she’d gone for the khyber knife.  “Worry about what it is later.  Help me with its jaws.  Got anymore chain, Yatsu?”

The giant had been more or less reduced to sitting on the tail to control it.  “Here,” he said, shrugging off the backpack and tossing it to her.  Along with his gloves.  “Take these.”

Coco handed the gloves to Neon.  “I can’t maneuver the chain and collect the venom.  Your hands still good enough to do this?”

Neon yanked the gloves onto her blistered and burned hands. “I can handle a chain,” she growled, and Coco gave her points for not losing it and shifting then and there.  That would’ve been a disaster at this point.

Taking a smaller length of chain out of the bag, she forced it into the thing’s mouth, forcing it open.  It thrashed its head, still snarling despite the sinverse-covered steel in its mouth, but Coco was able to jab the tube up under a nasty-looking fang.  Going off what she’d  seen in nature documentaries, she applied pressure to the fang then the base of it, trying whatever she could until a sickly yellow substance came out.  She repeated the process on the other fang.  Together, it was less than half the tube.  It would have to be enough.

”Don’t kill her,” she repeated, looking first Ciel then Penny in the eye.  Human form or not, she was still the Ulfric, still the Alpha.  The two Wolves knew to obey her.  Then she raced back to her fallen packmate.  She found Velvet pouting another potion on Fox’s arm.  Black foul-smelling smoke erupted like an open flame.  “I’ve got the venom!  Is this enough?  What’s wrong with his arm?”

Velvet took it, pulling other vials out of her bag.  “It’ll be enough,” she said.  “Did anyone else get bitten?”

"A few scratches, but no,” Coco replied.  

“Thank God,” Velvet whispered as she mixed a few powders and liquids into the tube of venom.  Coco recognized one of them as shredded rose petals; Velvet used them a lot in her healing.  “This stuff is horrible.  It causes necrosis, literally _rotting_ the victim’s flesh.”

”Will Fox be all right?” Coco asked.

”I think this will save his arm,” Velvet said, as she put a stopper in the tube and shook the vial, mixing the concoction.  “Where’s Yatsuhashi?”

”Back with the whatever,” Coco said.  "I think his leg’s broke.  Why?”

Velvet frowned.  “This potion, it basically throws the body’s ability to create anti-venom into overdrive, but it needs an intermediary; I can’t just give it to Fox, and I can’t drink it myself because . . .”  She dropped her gaze and put her hand on her belly.  

Fuck, Coco thought.  She didn’t know much about witchcraft, but she was fairly certain drinking a potion made from monster venom would risk a miscarriage, even for their kind.  “Give it to me,” she said.

”Coco—“ Velvet started.

”I’m The Ulfric, and I’ve given an order, Vargamour.”  Coco clenched her teeth as she spoke.  She hated falling back on pack hierarchies when it came to Velvet, but now was not the time to argue.  She wasn’t going to risk beheading and burying another family member. “Now give it to me.”

”Give me your left arm,” Velvet said.  She dug into her bag and withdrew a syringe.

Coco knelt down and extended the limb.  Velvet began chanting in Irish as she filled the barrel with the liquid.  Squirting the air out, she paused and looked Coco in the eye.   “This will hurt. Badly.”  

”Then do it fast,” Coco said.

Velvet nodded and resumed chanting.  Taking Coco’s wrist, she began massaging the vein.  Lining the needle up with its target, Velvet took a deep breath before chanting the final words as she jabbed it in, and depressed the plunger.

Everyone who looked at Velvet, with her thin limbs and meek gaze and assumed she was something weak and delicate.  Coco herself was guilty of it occasionally, so perhaps she didn’t give her witch’s warning the credit she should have.  She soon understood had wrong that was as  . . . Acid, it felt like, raced through her veins.  She felt it as it spread up her arm, too fast and yet somehow not fast enough to end whatever it was doing.  Vaguely, she realized Velvet had taken her hand in hers, and she clutched it, just as the potion hit her heart, and a scream exploded from her lips.

* * *

 “Ironwood was trailing a lead on a cold case, chasing some suit on the run.  His evidence led him to believe the man he was after was here in Beacon.  Ironwood came in and started investigating.  He turned the entire town upside down looking for sone clue as to where the man had gone.”

”What he’d do anyway?” Jaune asked.  “The guy they were chasing, I mean.”

Arslan shrugged. “Tax evasion, I think.  Some drug use and hiring prostitutes.  A bit of credit fraud after he went on the run.”

Jaune frowned.  “That doesn’t sound like something the FBI would deal with.”

”I think they were more interested in the fact that he’d started in Texas and so had crossed state lines.”

”He was in Texas, and he decided to cross the Canadian border?”

Arslan shrugged.  “Maybe he wasn’t now interested in learning Spanish.  Also, I’m not sure he ended up in Canada.  Maybe he went to Newfoundland or Greenland.  Maybe he went to Europe or Singapore.  Or, maybe he hopped a plane down to Mexico from New Brunswick.  Truthfully, I don’t think anyone ever proved the man was here in the first place.”

”All right, then,” Jaune said, processing the information.  “So, how did Special Agent Ironwood come to investigate Port?”

”Ironwood never could prove the man he was chasing was here, but he started thinking there were other people in town who had reasons to hide from the law."

"Well, we do have a reputation," Jaune said with an embarrassed smile.

Arslan gave him a calculating look.  ". . . Indeed we do.  Regardless, there was one person in particular who caught his attention . . . Are you familiar with Ms. Aida Coalfield?"

Jaune thought.  "I think I've met her once or twice.  She works at Healing Grace Church.  She's the one who works out the permits for the picnics and socials and such."

"And do you know why she moved to Beacon?"

"Um, well.  I wasn't sure she wasn't a native," Jaune admitted.

Arslan muttered to herself.  "Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned her name . . ."  Returning to the conversation, she continued.  "Ironwood apparently learned that Ms. Coalfield had moved to Beacon from Virginia after the death of her husband.  He also apparently heard that there were rumors surrounding his death back in Virginia.  Specifically, the townsfolk were under the impression that Ms. Coalfield had killed him."

Jaune's eyes widened.  His mouth opened and shut a few times as he tried to work out what to say.  Tried to reconcile the shy, subdued woman he knew with this strange accusation.  "Why?" he finally asked.  "Why would she do that?"

Arslan eyed him carefully.  "There were rumors that he was abusive:  beat her and whatnot."  Arlsan paused.  "I'm not sure if this is true or not, but one rumor is that he hit her so badly, he caused a miscarriage."

Jaune's eyes widened.  He swallowed.  "Then . . . I guess it was self-defense.  If it happened, that is."

This woman in the cell nodded, seemingly satisfied.  "Yes, that's one way to look at it, but it's hard to prove."  She shook her head.  "That was the problem.  Ironwood began harassing her, certain she was guilty.  At one point, he claims to have caught her in a lie, or at least an inconsistency.  He was set to have her taken into custody in the Vytal office of the FBI, but the recording of their conversation, which took place in this building's interrogation room, disappeared without a trace.  When Port produced the transcript, it lacked the lines Special Agent Ironwood claims she said.  The case was thrown out, and Ironwood began investigating Port for corruption."  She shrugged.  "Obviously, nothing came of it.  There were no suspicious deposits into his bank account, and neither he nor Ms. Coalfield were seen anywhere near each other in the preceding days or in the week or so following.  I don't think Ironwood ever forgave him for ruining his investigation, however, even though he was never able to prove the Captain did it purposely.”

Jaune nodded, nibbling on a cheese stick.  The door swung open, and he jumped to his feet.  "Haha!  Excellent reflexes, Jaune my boy!" Captain Port said with a laugh. 

Jaune straitened up. "Thank you, sir."  Arslan noted he seemed to be standing up even straighter than usual, almost like a soldier at attention, and she felt her respect for him rise.  Whatever happened as a result of Reese's attraction to him, she decided she approved. 

"I just wanted to tell you you could clock out, Jaune," Port said.

Jaune was silent for a moment, before answering.  "All right, sir.  I just need to finish up some work."

"All right.  See you tomorrow, Officer Arc," Port said.  Turning to Arslan, he asked "Everything all right, Ms. Altan?"

"Yes, sir," she replied. 

He nodded and walked out.  Jaune relaxed and turned back to his "prisoner."  "So, um, is there, uh, anything you need?  Anything you couldn't say to the Captain?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Is there a message you'd like to send to your family?" he asked.  "Anything you wouldn't want being recorded?"

Arslan shook her head.  "No."  She paused.  "Actually, if you could just assure them I'm all right, I would appreciate it."

Jaune nodded.  "I will, ma'am.  I promise."

* * *

 “. . . Will he be OK?”  Coco asked.

Velvet handed her a bottle of water and a pack of Kleenex.  “You should be more concerned about yourself, Coco.  Can you stand?”

”I’m the Ulfric; it’ll take more than a potion to take me down,” she said.  Despite that, she didn’t try to stand, just slouching against the wall.  She took a mouthful of water and washed it around in her mouth before spitting it out to join the patch of vomit on the floor.  Velvet had said that was a byproduct of the spell ending, forcing the toxins from her own body.  Coco wasn’t interested in thinking about that. Wiping her mouth, she looked down at the bandage that was now wrapped around her wrist.  “You didn’t use the silver knife, did you?”

”Of course not,”  Velvet said.  “It’ll be healed in an hour or so.”

”Good.  I’d hate having to explain the scar.  What’d you do anyway?”

”Do you know how antivenin’s made?” Velvet asked.

Coco frowned.  “They inject the venom into a horse or a sheep, drain some blood, and siphon the proteins out.”

Velvet sighed.  “That’s a little oversimplified, but essentially yes.  We did that, but skipped the siphoning part.”

Coco frowned.  She leaned over to get a look at Fox’s mouth.  “Did you feed him my blood?”

“I only had one syringe.  It seems to have worked, at least.”

”Well, that’s good,” Neon said.  The other two looked up to see her and Ciel carrying the motionless body the creature down the hall, it’s tail in her hands, it’s neck in Ciel’s jaws.  Yatsuhashi and Penny hobbled after, the big man leaning on the Lukoi for support.

”Dammit, I said not to kill her,” Coco muttered.

”Keep your skin on, Boss,” Neon said.  “She’s alive, just unconscious.”  They let it down sort of gently.  “Only way to keep the creep from snapping at us.”

”Is Fox all right?” Yatsu asked.

”He’s fine.  Let me look after you,” Velvet said. She scurried over to the injured man who was now sitting down against the wall, one leg stretched out.

Neon continued glaring at the unconscious monster.  “Lucky for her.  Otherwise . . .”

”Stay calm,” Coco said.  An edge creeling into her voice.  Regardless of the question of whether or not killing this creature—this person was justified—she had ordered it be spared.  Neon was getting dangerously close to defying her orders, and _that_ would not do.

”All right, Boss,” the redhead answered.  She glanced over at Velvet wrapping Yatsu’s leg before looking back down at the thing. “What is it?”

That . . . was a good question.  Coco looked down on the sleeping creature and found herself at a loss.  Honestly, she had no idea what to call it.  It had the same shape as a Lukoi in Wolf-form: thin, elongated snout and muzzle, long legs that came out directly under it instead of out to the side like a lizard’s, claws extending horizontally from the digits, long tail.  It was a shape unique to their species, but this one was covered in scales.

”Well,” she said.  “It’s not a Vargulf.”

 “Agreed,” Yatsu noted.

”So what _is_ it?” Neon asked.  

“Could it be the result of a spell or a curse?” Yatsuhashi asked.

“I think she has some form of atavism,” Velvet offered, bending down close to examine the sleeping oddity.  Coco moved down beside her.

”Atavism, you mean a regression to an ancestral type?” Ciel asked.

”Like Humans born with stumpy tails,” Fox offered.

”No, not in an evolutionary sense,” Velvet said.  “I mean more traditional ancestry. I think one of her ancestors wasn’t Human or Wolf.”

Coco frowned.  “What, her great-great-grandmother got it on with an alligator?” That got a few snorts and chuckles from her assembled pack mates.

”More likely a supernatural creature of some sort,” Velvet said, still serious.  “Though what, I can’t imagine.”

Neon groaned.  “Probably a Fae; it’s always the Fae!”

Coco made a sound that was not quite agreement but not exactly a rebuttal.  Maybe it wasn’t always the Fae, but that wasn’t a bad place to start.  Still, they’d worry about that in the morning.  “What about the others?  Are their injuries all right?”

Velvet examined the wound on Penny’s hind leg, gently prodding it and sniffing.  The Lukoi whined quietly but didn’t flinch.  “It seems that whatever she is, she retains the same attributes in her claws that ours do.  These wounds aren’t tainted with venom, but they’re not healing as fast as they should.”

Coco nodded.  “So they’ll still be on the mend when they shift back.  Great.”  She looked down at the unconscious beast.  “Will she shift back when the sun rises?”

”I think so,” Velvet said.  “She may be a hybrid, but she still seems to be a Werewolf when all is said and done.”

”Good enough,” the Ulfric  declared.  “Let’s load her into the car.”

”We’re still taking her?” Yatsu asked.

”But, Coco,” Velvet said.  “This woman is definitely not the creature from my vision.”

”She’s still an unknown in all this,” Coco said.  “And until we get what’s going on, we’re keeping her under lock and key.”

Neon groaned.  “How are we getting her in the car?”

* * *

Ilia woke up, on the floor of the basement, naked and sore all over.  Not exactly a new position for her, but that was something she only needed to do when the Full Moon came around.  Also, she was pretty sure this wasn’t her basement. The layout was all wrong, and it was noticeably bigger than her little cottage’s underground room.  She also found she lay on a futon, with a blanket draped over her.

"Wakey, wakey!  Eggs and--um, do you actually like eggs and bacon?" a voice asked.

Ilia turned and saw two women, one blonde, the other a black-haired, East Asian-looking type.  The Asian woman rolled her eyes.  “Sometimes, I swear you and Ruby never entered puberty.”

The blonde snorted.  “Oh, we both know that isn’t true Blake-y!”

”Who are you?” Ilia asked, rising to a crouching position and drawing the blanket around her her body.  As she did, noticed that although her body was bereft of clothing, she was covered in bandages. “Why am I here?  What happened?”  

”They’re with me,” a familiar voice said.  Ilia looked up and saw Coco Adel descending the stairs.  The brunette stood beside the two women.  She crossed her arms and glared at Ilia.  “And you’re hear because we have questions for you.”

“How are you feeling?”

Ilia jumped at the question.  A fourth, tall and thin with long brown hair and soft brown eyes entered with Adel, though Ilia had missed her, focused as she was on her companion, and was now kneeling beside her.  She wore a concerned expression, her eyes studying Ilia, focused on her wounds. It was . . . nice; no one had looked at Ilia like that since _that_ night. On the other hand, she thought she remembered this newcomer from the assault in her house.  Still, the woman’s voice was gentle as she spoke.  “Your wounds.  Is there any stinging? Do the bandages feel loose?”

Ilia blinked, processing the questions.  “. . . No,” she whispered.  “I feel fine.  Well, as fine as I usually do after . . .” her voice trailed off, and she hugged the blanket tighter around herself.  

The soft-spoken woman nodded in sympathy.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the end of it.  One of Ilia’s arms, already wrapped up more tightly than the other, throbbed, and Ilia winced despite herself.  She brought the arm up to examine the bandages.  They looked expertly applied, but there was so much of them.  “What _happened_ to me?” she asked.

”You don’t remember?” the blonde asked.

”No!” Ilia yelled, scared, and tired, and confused.  “How could I?  Do you?”

Adel’s frown increased.  “Of course we do.  You don’t?”

Ilia shook her head.  "No.  Sometimes, I have  . . . flashes.  Like nightmares." 

“That sounds more like the way Werewolves are portrayed in the movies,” the Asian woman—Blakey—mused.  

Beside her, the blonde scratched her chin.  “I’ve heard of that happening to young Wolves their first few times.  Never for an adult though.”

”When did you first transform?” Coco asked.

”About four years ago,” Ilia answered.  “. . . A month after . . .” she swallowed.  “After my father bit me.”

”Your birth father?” Coco asked.

Ilia looked up.  “Yes,” she said, confused.

"He was bitten as well, then," Coco said.  Not a question.

Ilia nodded.  "Yes, he was.  He'd gone on a trip with some business friends.  Hiking and hunting.  They had been out for a couple of days when they were attacked by . . . a pack."  She was aware of the contempt in her voice as she spoke the word.  She didn’t care. "Most of his friends and business partners were killed.  My father only escaped because of he was separated from the others.  He had his gun, and he shot the one that found him, but it had already bitten him on the leg."

"He shot it?" Coco asked.  Again she was frowning, but now she was the one who looked confused. 

”Between the eyes, I think,” Ilia said with a shrug.  "I never asked for the full story.  At first, he thought it was just an attack by a rabid pack.  He went to the hospital and got a rabies shot.  He came home the next day.  For a while, things were fine."

"Until the Full Moon," Adel said.

Ilia nodded.  "Yes, he'd gotten out of the house when it happened.  He came back with this . . . look.  It was awful.  It was . . . have you ever seen someone after they'd been told their child died?"

"Yes," replied Blakey said.   Adel just nodded.

"It was like that.  He looked like he, like he wanted to die."  All was silent for a moment.   Then, Ilia continued.  “For the next few months, Dad tried to keep it a secret, to keep it controlled.  It was tough; Mom started to wonder if he might be cheating on her, the way he was regularly disappearing.  So he built a safe room in the basement.

“One night though, one of his friends, one of the few left alive came to the house.  Wanted to know why he wasn’t going hunting anymore.  Why he was the only one to survive the last trip he took.  He hadn’t been on that trip.”

They argued.  It got bad.  Then . . . My Dad, he . . . _his skin!“_

Blakey nodded.  “He changed; we understand.  Then what happened?” 

”. . . He attacked his friend.  He killed him.  Ripped his throat out.”  To herself she whispered “There was so much blood.”

Speaking normally, she continued.  “Then, he attacked me.  I tried to get away but I couldn’t.  He jumped on me. Pinned me down.  I tried to push him but I couldn’t.  He bit me.”  She held out her right arm, the less mummified one.  While there were a fair few bandages on it, everyone could clearly see the long, cruel-looking scars on the forearm.

“He was acting on instincts,” the long-haired brunette said.  “He was his friend as a threat, so he killed him.  Then, he tried to make you a part of his pack.”

Ilia shuddered at the words, despite their soft tone.  “The next morning, he changed back.  He saw what he’d done to his friend.  He was disgusted.”

She took a deep breath.  “Dad told me he was sorry.  He never should’ve brught this home, and he couldn’t risk hurting me or Mom.  I’d hidden the bite marks under my sleeves. I was scared to let him see.  He asked me to tell Mom he loved her and said he loved me too.”  She sniffled.  “Then he loaded his shotgun and . . . HE BLEW HIS BRAINS OUT!” 

She collapsed into crying.  “So don’t tell me this is a gift or a blessing  or _anothing_  less than a curse.  Because it is.  It took my Dad from me, and my life.  My whole fricking life!”

The woman beside her wrapped her arms around her, drawing her into a hug.  It was the first embrace Ilia had felt since she’d run away from home, from her grieving mother and everything she knew to keep them safe.  Despite her fears of this strange group, the scarred woman leaned into the warmth of the other woman who ran her hands over her and whispered soft, unintelligible words into her ear.

* * *

Maybe she was just recovering from the potion the night before, but Coco had almost had a heart attack when Velvet had hugged the crying woman against her.  Despite the sob story, Miss Amitola was a strange, unknown creature who clearly had no control over her bestial side.  Velvet, however, had shot her a look that said the meek, loving Vargamour wouldn’t hesitate to fight all three of them if they tried to separate her from her newest patient. Despite her own status as Ulfric, Coco knew there were some battles she couldn’t win.    

So instead, she’d led assembled Yang and Blake up the stairs and out of the basement.  When they’d closed and locked the cellar behind them, Coco leaned back against the wall, feeling unaccountably tired.  They’d had a long night.  Not just the fight with Miss Amitola or the healing of Fox (who was still sleeping off the incident).  Getting the subdued monster back to the car had taken some effort, What with Yatsu being incapacitated and Ciel and Penny stuck in Wolf form until the sun rose. The pair had, had to run off into the woods and take the long way home; there was just no way everyone could fit in the car otherwise.  Yatsu’s truck was roomy, but it wasn’t _that_ roomy.

Yang turned to Blake almost as soon as the door was closed and asked the question that had been bothering all of them.  "Is it just me or does there seem to be something . . . off about her story?"

"Like what?" Coco asked, her own frustration breaking through.  "Like how that story about her dad doesn't really explain how he survived with only a bite?  Or how he knew to get out of the house before the full moon when he supposedly thought it was just a rabid wolf attack?"

“Or how he was able to return home so quickly,” Blake added.  “I’m no expert on animal attacks, but it seems to me that he should have needed more care than just a rabies shot.  And, it seems that there should’ve been a bigger investigation into the attack.”  

“Yeah, the cops should’ve asked if he killed all his partners in some kind of bizarre multiple homicide,” Yang mused.  “And how’d he know he needed to take his own head off to kill himself and stay dead?”

Coco hissed.  “So, she’s lying.”  

”Maybe her father was the one who lied to her.”  The trio turned around and saw Weiss and Ruby peaking around the corner.  Coco was annoyed at the eavesdropping, but the sight of them—Ruby supporting the Fledgling, who looked like she’d just woken from a nightmare—killed any desire to scold the young couple.

Beside the Ulfric, Blake responded to her Fledgling’s suggestion.  “Yes.  That is always a possibility.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmm. Can I just say that Ilia’s backstory was a lot less rape-y when I started writing it? I never thought I’d go there. The idea that her Dad committed suicide right in front of her was always there to provide trauma though. We’ll hopefully be getting more into THAT next chapter. And, hopefully, the first appearance of the Vargulf.
> 
> A little more details regarding Coco’s background are revealed, or at least hinted at. She has traumas or her own. They’ll be explored in depth later.
> 
> Wow, there is a lot going on. I get the feeling this is setting up to be an ensemble series, like ANGEL or LEGENDS OF TOMORROW, rather than just the Weiss-focused tale it started as. Oh well!


	10. Episode 10: More Troubles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, has it really been three months since I last updated this fic? Well, it works out anyway. Happy Pride Month and Happy White Rose Week 2018!

“So, what do we do with her?”  May asked.

“She hasn’t done anything wrong,” Reese pointed out.

"What IS she?” Weiss asked.

"We're not sure," Blake answered.  As her Sire, she was supposed to know these things, but . . . this was one time she was as lost as everyone else.

“I still say she’s a Fae something or other,” Neon grumbled.

"You ALWAYS think it's Fae!" Ruby laughed.

"And, as she said last night, it usually is," Coco said.

"Fae?” Weiss whispered to her Sire.

"Faeries,” Blake said.

"Fairies?”  Weiss asked. “Like Tinkerbell?”

"No.  Fairies like powerful and cunning nature spirits,” Blake replied, shaking her head.  “The Fae are scary, Weiss, and more dangerous than any of us can ever hope to be.  Remember that.”

Weiss nodded as the conversation began to heat up.  Put simply, it was an argument between those who wanted to keep the unknown woman/creature in their basement until they knew what she was and whether or not she could be trusted and those who thought she deserved to be let go.

The latter category included Nora, Velvet, Yang, and Ruby.  The strongest voices in the former were Neon and May.  

“How can we trust her if we don’t know what the fuck she is?” May asked.

"But she hasn't really done anything," Nora pointed out.

"And she couldn't," Yatsu added.  "We saw her basement; she really did lock herself away every time the Full Moon came.  She has no desire to harm anyone."

"We may have changed that," Blake said quietly.

Coco and Velvet argue with each other.  "Coco, if you don't let her go, I'm going to go down there and letting her out myself!" Velvet shouted.

Coco's face contorted in rage.  "You do that, and I'll—" 

"You'll what?" Velvet demanded.  Yet, even as she made that demand, she seemed to shiver in fear.  Weiss couldn't blame her.  Coco was so angry and she had so much power, she could do whatever she wanted and get away with it.  She—

“I’ll cut you off for two weeks!” Coco snapped. 

There was a pause.  Weiss’ brain tried to parce what Coco has just said.  As soon as she had, the shouting began again.

“You wouldn’t!” Ruby yelled.

"I would,” Coco insisted.

"You’d fail,” Fox said.

“I would not!”

Weiss watched the exchange.  Coco defiantly insisted that she could follow through with her bizarre punishment without cracking, and everyone else insisting that she was . . . well, they seemed to being implying that suggesting such a thing made her look like an idiot. 

 _They’re not afraid of her,_ she realized.  In the months she'd spent living with the pack, Coco had always portrayed herself as . . . well, the alpha.  The queen.  The unquestioned leader.  Except, she had been questioned.  Weiss recalled now that even Ruby, who was one of the most submissive of the pack, had stood up to Coco and seemingly suffered no punishment for it.  Now, Velvet, who was almost as submissive, was staring Coco in the eye and standing her ground against . . . what?  Coco's threats to withhold sex for a while?

Coco through up her hands.  “OK!  Break time! This discussion is tabled until further notice!  Everyone just . . . Do whatever for a couple of hours and we’ll try this again.  Reese!  Tell your boyfriend that we’ve got Ilia and we’re keeping her until further notice!”

"He isn’t my boyfriend,” Reese blushed.

"No but you’re clearly crushing on him,” May pointed out.  “C’mon, girl.  Let’s go tell him we’ve kidnapped a resident who’s some kind of monster we’ve never seen before.”

* * *

Coco knocked on the doorframe.  "Can I come in?" she asked.

Velvet looked up and tilted her head in confusion.  "Sure," she said.  "Is something wrong?"

Coco walked in and sat down on the bed.  She waited a few moments before she spoke again.  "You . . . shivered earlier. 

“I did?” Velvet asked. 

“Yeah.”

"I’m sorry.”

 _"You’re_ sorry?” Coco asked.  “Fuck, Vels, this is my screw up.”

"No, it isn’t—“

"Velvet I scared you!” Coco said.  The Ulfric shook her head.  “I, I never wanted to do that, especially to you, Velvet.  I don’t want you to think of me like _him.”_

Velvet blinked.  “I don’t!  Coco, you’re not like him!  I know you love me!”

"Well, yeah, I love all the pack, same as you.”

Velvet considered calling her on this cover-up, but didn't.  “Coco . . . I won’t lie, when you stood there glaring at me, it was a trigger.  It brought back memories I wish I could forget.  That's not your fault."

"It's not yours—"

"No; it's Cardin's," Velvet said.  "You're not him, Coco, and I know that.  I'll always know that.  It's just . . . he left scars on me."

"And I shouldn't pick at them," Coco muttered.

"You weren’t,” Velvet said before gripping her belly and bending over.  “Ooooooo!”

"Velvet!  Are you OK?  Is this—“

"Maybe a stomach bug,” Velvet replied.

"We don’t get stomach bugs!”

"Sometimes we do,” Velvet replied weakly.  “Look.  Until I take the test,  we can't say for certain, and it’s still too early for that.”

Coco sighed.  “All right.”  She wrapped her arms around Velvet.  “I’m still not thrilled about this Vels.”

"Are you saying you want me to get an abortion?” Velvet asked, hurt.

"No!  I just . . . I don’t want to have to . . . go through that again.”

Velvet turned and looked Coco in the eye whilst taking the Ulfric’s hand into her own.  “Coco.  You may have to do that anyway.  You’re the Ulfric, and we don’t exactly lead the safest lives.”

"I know,” Coco replied.  “I guess I just have scars of my own.”

"We all do, Coco,” Velvet said, snuggling deeper into her embrace.  “We all do.”

* * *

"Officer, we’d like to report a kidnapping.”  Jaune looked up and saw May and Reese standing in front of him.  Reese looked uncomfortable; May looked deadpan.

"Um, all right,” Jaune said, sitting down.  Looking back at the pair then he shot a glance at Arslan who was focused on her friends.  She seemed rather annoyed with them.  Looking back at the pair, Reese was shifting under her glare, and May was starting to look stoically uncomfortable (that's the only way Jaune could think of to describe it.  She was still standing stock still, but it looked like it was taking more effort to do nothing than earlier).  "Maybe we should do this at my desk."

"I think that won't be necessary," Arslan said. 

Reese flushed but nodded.  "yeah.  Here's good."

"Um, right," Jaune said.  Taking out his notebook and a pen he asked.  "So, who was abducted?"

"Ilia Amitola; you spoke with her yesterday," May replied.

Jaune blinked.  Looking up, he asked "All right.  Uh . . . man, I'm going to hate asking this, but do you know who was responsible?"

"Us," May replied.  She pulled back her sleeve to reveal the bandage on it.  "We fought and subdued her, tied her up, then transported her to our home last night.  She's currently secured in our basement."

Jaune leaned over and rubbed his face.  "OK.  Why, did you do that, or don't I want to know?"

"They wanted to ask her if she had anything to do with the attacks," Reese said.  "She panicked and attacked, and, well."

"Wait," Jaune said.  "So, you weren't there, Reese?"  She shook her head.

"But I was," May replied.

"Jaune," Reese said.  "Could we please speak to Arslan?  Alone?"

Jaune didn't answer immediately.  "Don't worry, kid," May said.  "We won't break her out or anything; we just want to tell her how things are going back at the house."

"I promise to remain in the cell at all times," Arslan said.

"Right," the officer said.  "I'll go discuss this with Port. I'll be gone for a while, so get comfortable."

"Thank you," Reese said. 

After the door closed, Arslan immediately opened up on the pair.  "What happened?"

May gave a condensed version of the events of the last twenty-four hours, with Reese adding in things she left out. 

Arslan sat down on the bench in the cell.  "I do not know what the worst part of that is?"

"Have you ever heard of anything like what she turned into?" Reese asked.

The Arabian woman shook her head.  "Never.  I know that some Human myths feature reptilian shapeshifters, but I have never heard of any such creature existing in reality."

"Could she be a skinwalker?" May asked.  "I've been thinking—maybe she just made that story up, and she's really a skinwalker."

Arslan shook her head.  "I do not think so.  I encountered one of those things once, before joining our pack, and I can assure you they do not shift like us. Unless she is a talented actress, I do not think she is anything unnatural."

"I thought Skinwalkers could only transform into natural animals, anyway," Reese said.  "Whatever Ilia turns into, I don't think it's natural, even preternatural."

"I don’t pretend to be an expert on those aberrations,” Arslan said, a growl edging into her voice.  “Except in killing them.”

"Destroy their skins, right?” May asked.

"and then the monster underneath,” Arslan finished.

Reese frowned.  “I really hope this woman isn’t one of them.”

"Amen, sister,” May replied.

"For all our sakes,” Arslan finished.

* * *

A gentle knock on the doorframe roused Coco from her reverie.  Along with a gentler voice.

"Coco?”

Shrugging off sleep, Coco looked up. “Ruby?” She asked.

The younger Wolf smiled shyly.  “Can I come in?”  You didn’t just walk uninvited into another Werewolf’s territory—especially not the Ulfric’s.

Coco spared a moment to inspect the warm weight lying against hern Velvet was still deep asleep.  “Sure.  What’s up?”

The russet-haired Wolf padded into the room.  She stopped in front of the bed and knelt down before her leader.  “Is it true you had to drink the potion because Velvet couldn’t?”

Coco blinked, considering the question and the thoughts which may have prompted it.  “Yeah.  Pregnancy comes at a price.”  Looking down at the peaceful Witch cuddled against her, she smiled softly without realizing it and drew her closer.  “I know I couldn’t do it; couldn’t go that long without alcohol,” she said with a soft smile as she stroked Velvet’s hair.

Despite how beautiful the scene before her was, Ruby couldn’t help but snicker at her leader and boss’ comment.  ”Yeah. Guess not.”  The young woman sobered and became more serious.  “Anyway I, uh, there’s something I wanted to talk to her about.”

"about what?”

"Oh!” Ruby said, slapping the side of her head.  “I’ve got news from everyone else.  “Folks want to know what we’re doing now.  You know, about the Vargulf.”

Coco sighed.  “The only thing we can do; we’ll investigate everyone else on Jaune’s list.  Maybe one of them is the culprit.  Maybe we can just eliminate the innocent.”

"And . .  . Ilia?”

Another sigh.  “Maybe we should let her out of the basement.”

"Oh, we already did that.”

"What?”

* * *

“Hmm,” Port hummer to himself at the news.  “This is . . . Troubling.  Yet, I don’t see what we can do, do you, Jaune?”

"No sir,” the officer replied.  “We have to trust them; the people of the Veil Cafe are the only ones who have any idea what’s going on and how to deal with it.”

Port nodded.  “We’ve trusted them before, and we’ve yet to be steered wrong.”

Jaune walked out of the office, to the sound of his name.

“Jaune.”  

The officer lifted his head and saw Pyrrha coming up to him.  “Pyrrha?” He asked.

“What’s up,” she asked.  “You look concerned.  Is it something Port said?”

"Hm, no.  This case is just getting to me,” he said.

"I know what you mean,” Pyrrha said.  “Want to talk about it?”

"Not a lot to say,” Jaune replied.  “It’s just .  .  . People are getting scared, you know?  Sooner or later, folks are gonna start suspecting each other, and when they do . . .”

"It never ends well,” Pyrrha replied.  “The witch hunts, the Holocaust, the Red Scare, the AIDS epidemic . . . Panic and desperation cause Humans to start to see monsters everywhere—except where they really are.”

"Where they really are?  You mean, real monsters?”

He meant it as a joke (half a joke anyway), but Pyrrha . . . flinched. “No.  I mean the worst sort of human beings.  Everyone was looking for some imagined Communist danger in the fifties, no one even though that politicians like McCarthy might use the situation to their own advantage.”

"Hah, I guess you’re right,” Jaune admitted.  "You'd have to be a real nut job to believe in real monsters."

"Yes," Pyrrha said, eying him.  There was something about his reaction that troubled her.  "You would."

* * *

"OK," Coco said, speaking slowly.  "Explain this to me.  Now."

Most of the Pack was still in the living room.  May and Reese had gone to visit Arslan, and Ciel and Penny had ducked out already to go investigating. Yang, Blake, and Weiss were just waiting on the youngest of the Pack to join them.  For now, though, the three sat with the others, arrayed around a very confused-looking Ilia Amitolae who sat on the couch without any restraints whatsoever.

"She's not the Vargulf," Yang explained.  "and she's clearly not in league with it."

Coco turned to Neon.  "You agreed to this?"

"We took a vote.  I lost," she replied.

"A vote?  And whose idea was that."

Nora's hand shot up.  Figures, Coco thought.  "And Nora . . . what?"

"Well, I figured since she’s not the bad guy, why should we keep her locked up?  It’s not like she can turn during the day—“

"Unless she was—“

"She’s not,” Blake interrupted.  “I’ve met _one of those_ before.  She’s not.”

Coco blinked, before nodding.  Nora continued.

"Anyway, she can’t hurt us, but we can hurt her, and if we have to it’ll be easier to do it up here where we’re all together.  And if we do t then there’s no reason to keep her locked up in the basement is there?  Since she isn’t the bad guy, and she can’t hurt us.”

"Right . . .” Coco said, fighting the headache from trying to follow Nora’s circular logic.

"Well, we're off!" Yang said, clearly trying to escape Nora-built thought traps.  "Me and Blake are taking Rubes and the Baby Vamp to check out the other suspects!"

Coco cocked an eyebrow.  "That's your idea of a double date?"

Weiss blushed.  Thankfully, her sire came to her rescue.  "It's a low-risk task, and it will provide an excuse to show Weiss the sights."

"You're stopping at Scarlet and Sage's, right?" Fox asked. "All the couples go there."

". . . Ruby mentioned it the other day," Weiss admitted. 

"Where is she, anyway?" Yang asked.

"Coming!"  A voice called out, before Ruby zipped out past Coco and appeared standing beside Weiss.  Pulling the Fledgling Vampire to here feet, she continued.  "Let's get a move on!"

Coco frowned.  "Ruby, did you wake up Velvet?"

"Um, just a little.  I had something I really needed to ask her.  Don't worry, I think she's asleep again."

Coco made a mental note to talk to Velvet later.  "Fine.  Whatever. Just get out you four."

They leave.  The others discuss Ilia's situation with her.

"So . . . you really are Werewolves?  All of you?"

"Blake and Weiss are Vampires," Neon remarked.  "Other than that, yeah, we're all Weres."

"Ten of our Pack are currently absent," Yatsuhashi replied.  "You will meet them shortly."

"If she's lucky," Coco said, sitting down.

"And . . . I'm _not_ a Werewolf," Ilia asked.

Neon opened her phone.  "I snapped this pic of you before you turned back.  Just in case we needed it."  She tossed the device over to Ilia.  The woman examined it.  Coco knew what was on the screen: a photo of the scaled monster that the woman before her had turned into the night before.  "I don't understand . . . what _is_ this?"

"Honestly, we have no clue," the Ulfric replied.  "I've never heard of a scaled Werewolf.  Much less a venomous one."

"Could she be a Weresnake or something?" Fox asked.

"Oo!  Or a Weregiliamonster?" Nora asked.

"Does that even exist?" Ren asked.

Coco shook her head.  "No.  Depending on the culture and the coat patterns of the transformed state, some Weres have been likened to tigers or jaguars or things, but we're all the same species.  And we're all mammals."

“So, I’m a freak,” Ilia said.  

“Or part Fae,” Neon said.  “Which is kind of like being a freak, but weirder.”

"Hey! Nora interjected.  “Why are the Fae freaks?  Who’s to say they aren’t the normal ones and we’re all freaks?”

"I’m sure that’s what they think,” Ren admitted.

”Whatever you are, we can help you discover it,” Yatsu said.

"What’s this ‘we’ stuff?” Coco asked.

Fox chuckled.  “You know there’s no way we can just throw her out on her ear, boss.”

Coco let out her breath in a long his.  “Doesn’t mean I can’t ffantasize about it,” she said.

"Why?” Ilia asked.  “Why would you help me.  You don’t know what I am, except that I’m an abominable even by your standards!”

"Leaving the veiled insult alone for now,” Coco said, “along with the self-image problem you clearly have, why not?”

Ilia blinked.  “Why not?”

Coco shrugged.  “You’re not a bad person, but you can’t keep on as you’ve been.  Sooner or later, something will go wrong.  Heck, it happened last night.”

"Sorry about that,” Yatsuhashi said. 

Milia blushed.  “Should t I be the one apologizing to you?”

"Actually, you should be apologizing to me,” Fox said with a smile.  “No hard feelings, by the way.  You weren’t in control of yourself, so let it go.  Took me a while to work out the control thing too.”

Ilia looked at him  “You . . .”

"Fox was bitten, too,” Nora said, cheerfully.  

Ilia’s eyes automatically went to the blind man’s scars.  “I don’t get it.  We’re t you _all_  bitten?”

The others burst out laughing.  “Oh, no!” Neon laughed.

"Bitten Werewolves like Fox and you are actually quite rare.” Ren explained.  “Most of us were born into the condition.”  

“Usually, If we’re pissed off enough to bite someone, they don’t get up again,” Ciel explained.

"So, you were never Human?” Ilia asked.

"Never,” Coco replied.  “But that’s a story for another day.  Let me explain this to you:  we’re not monsters.  Well, maybe we are, but we’re not evil.  We don’t go around killing innocent people,” unlike your father, she thought but didn’t say, “and we can’t let you run around and kill innocent people.  If that’s too hard for you to believe, then just chalk it up to us not wanting attention drawn to ourselves.  The bottom line is, stay with us for a while, and we teach you how to control yourself.”

"And if I say no?” Ilia asked.

Coco sighed.  “That’s not really an option.  Like I said, we can’t risk you running around on your own.  We can’t let you leave until we know you can control yourself.”

"And if I try to run away?”

. . . We’ll stop you.”

"You’ll kill me?”

"I hope not,” Coco said.

"Coco!” Yatsuhashi cried.

"Whoa, girl!” Nora cried.  “That’s a little extreme, isn’t it?”

"Maybe,” Coco said, “But we don’t have a lot of other options.”

Ilia shrugged.  “Fine.  So, how does this work?”

* * *

"I'm bored!" Yang whined.  "How many more idiots' houses do we gotta skulk around like the world's least decisive robbers?"

Blake smiled.  "Just this one."  She paused.  "I'm a little concerned we haven't heard from Nora and Ciel yet."

Yang shrugged.  "They probably haven't found anything either."

Blake maneuvered the car into a parking space.  "Probably not."

"It's . . . odd to be back here," Weiss whispered from the backseat.  Blake spared her a look in the rearview.  The Fledgling was looking out the window at the motel.  The same motel she had lived at for her first months in Beacon.

"Do you . . . miss it?" Ruby asked.

"Of course not," Weiss replied, turning back to her.  "This was just a place I lived at for a while.  I have a home now." 

Blake smirked as she got out of the car.  "Come on.  Let's get this taken care of.  Then we can get something to eat."  The four stepped out into the mostly empty parking lot.  It was the off-season, after all.

Yang stretched as she got out, her eyes drifting to her sister and said sister's would-be mate.  "You OK, Weiss?" she asked. 

The white-haired young woman shook her head.  "It's nothing," she said, but her eyes remained locked on the second floor of the motel.  Like a little poodle eying the yard across the street where the big, mean Rottweiler lived.  

"What is it, Weiss?" Ruby asked.  She raced around the car almost instantly, her hand finding the Fledgling's.  Weiss squeezed it before answering.

"I just . . . Mr. Callows always scared me.  It's silly, I guess; I'm a Vampire now, and he's just some perv.  What can he do to me?"

"He can kill you because you think you're invincible," Blake replied.  The others looked at her.  "Don't ever think that Humans are no threat to you; that's the number one way Vampires get killed."

Weiss looked her in the eye for a moment.  Whatever she saw must've been pretty convincing, because she just nodded in silence.

"Good," the Sire said.

"All right!" Yang said, trying to clear the air.  "Let's talk to the letch!"

The quartet climbed the stairs, and knocked on the appropriate door.  Hopefully, he would be inside and not out on the town, or else they'd have to try again the next night.

Luck was with them, however, as the door swung open.  Whether it was good or bad luck, however, was up for debate.  Tyrian Callows was not the first guy many women wanted to speak to if they could help it.  His wild-looking eyes gave him the look of a man who was perpetually high, an assumption not helped by the messy, scraggly dark hair or the unbuttoned shirt that showed off more than a few scars.  He didn't smell like drugs, though.  Instead, he smelled like he bathed in cologne, and despite the sunlight diminishing her senses to almost Human-levels, Blake still had to fight not to curl her nose.  His wild eyes focused on them, and an unpleasant smile broke out onto his face. 

"Well, well," he said, in a voice that just screamed SLEAZE-BALL, “Is it my birthday, and are you my present?”

Yang smiled and replied.  “Actually, we’re doing volunteer work for _The Herald,”_ she said, referring to the weekly newspaper.  “They want as many opinions about what’s happening as they can get.”  To really sell the image, she’d brought a pencil and notebook.

”No kidding?”  He sounded like she was offering to sell oceanfront property in Arizona.

”I’m applying to journalism school,”she said, shrugging and sighing and the same time, which made her breasts bounce a little.  

“Uh, huh,” Callows said, eying Yang’s bust.  He seemed to remember the others.  “Then why are we head three here?”

Yang smirked. ”They’re here for moral support and to get a free ride to some chow.”

”Can we come in,” Blake asked.  “I’m sure it would be more comfortable than all of us standing around here on th doorstep.”

Callows gave another sleazy smile and stepped back.  “Come on in.”

The inside of Callows’ room was . . . all right.  It wasn’t a mess, aside from the stench of too much cologne.  But there wasn’t anything special about it either.  It wasn’t a home, just a place sleep at night.  Blake remembered having lived like that, Weiss—her Fledgling—had until recently.

Callows at down on the edge of the bed, leaning against the wall.  Yang sat down in the chair at the desk while the others stood to the side.

Yang nibbled her pencil, like an innocent school child, drawing Callows’ attention back to her (in fairness, it turned Blake on too).  “So, do you know anything about the recent attacks?” the blonde asked.

"Yeah, I’ve heard about it.  Just some rabid animal, isn’t it?” he asked.

“He—mh!” Ruby said.  Beside her, Weiss squeezed her hand, signaling silence.  Glancing her way, the white-haired woman subtly shook her head.  One lesson she’d learned early in life was when to be quite and just let others talk.

Beside them, Blake realized the same thing the young Werewolf had.  Jaune had told them that Callows had been especially convinced the attacks had been the work of an insane Human, possibly more than one.  He’d been almost evangelical about it.  Now, he was insistent it was just an animal attack.  The Vampire’s eyes narrowed.

"So, you think it’s just an animal?” Yang asked.  As she did so, she leaned back, emphasizing her bust.

"Uh, yeah,” the perv said, his eyes locking onto Yang’s cleavage.  “I mean, no one around here’s a psycho, right?”

"Right,” Blake said.

Yang smiled.  So, how’d you wind up in Beacon?” she asked.

“Wanted to get away from the big city,” he answered with a shrug.  “Too much noise.  Too many crowds.  Way too much crime.  I prefer rabid animals to muggers and drug dealers.”

"I know what you mean,” Weiss said, coming up beside Blake.  Despite the Sun depriving her of much of her powers, she still walked with a natural grace.  Combined with a small smile and lidded eyes, and Blake was struck by how beautiful her Fledgling was.  She wasn’t as bombastic as Yang, but her elegance wasn’t lost on Callows.  The older Vampire knew she didn’t have to look back to know Ruby was awestruck by the Fledgling.  “That’s why I came to Beacon myself.  Life in the big city was just so . . . Rough.”

Beside them, Ruby jumped.  “Sorry.  It’s just my phone.  I got a text.”  Taking her phone out, she read it.  Oh, it’s from Penny.  Look it, guys.”  She passed the phone to Weiss, who came back to her to look.  The Fledgling’s eyes widened a little.  Weiss took a single step forward (incidentally positioning herself between Ruby and Callows and tossed it over to Yang.

"Heh, cute,” Yang said in a voice Blake could see through, but Callows hopefully couldn’t.  “Check it out, Blakey.” 

Blake took it from her, casually looking it over. _Last Interviewee convinced killer human.  Says Callows convinced her._

“Cute,” she agreed.  Her eyes flicked back to Callows; he was leering at her and Yang’s faces, so close together.  And Yang’s breasts.  And her own butt.  Given her job, that shouldn’t have bothered her, but there was something else in his eyes, something predatory.   No wonder Weiss had been afraid of him.  She turned back to him.  “Have you ever seen an animal kill a person?” she asked.

“No, I can’t say that I have.”

Blake pretended to consider this.  "And, have you ever been to the places where the killings took place?"

"Nah," He shook his head.  "I ain't morbid enough to do that."

"What about before the killings," she asked.  "Did you ever go to those places before?"

Irritation sparked in his eyes.  "Look, Lady,” he said, “I don’t know what you’ve been smoking, but I had nothing to do with those murders!  Why don’t you go looking for the one who did!”

"I thought you said an animal was the killer,” Weiss interjected.  "Now, you think it was an animal.  Which is it?"

"You told the police you thought it must be a person,” Ruby said.  “And then you told us it was an animal.  Why did you change your mind?  Or were you lying?”

The man looked at each of the four in turn.  Then, he threw back his head and laughed.  “Oh, heck with it!  I can’t say I don’t like the idea of putting a few of you bitches down myself!”  He grinned evilly as he spoke.  Then, his skin began to rip, revealing a Werewolf beneath.

"What the fuck?” Yang said.

"Omigosh!” Ruby was even more concise.

"He can change during the day?” Weiss asked.

Blake drew her lips back and hissed.  “Skinwalker!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologizies if I got Tyrian Callows’ character wrong; I haven’t watched the show since Volume 3 (gonna have to fix that soon), and I wanted to use a REBY character for the reveal rather than an original one. 
> 
> For anyone who complains that Velvet and Weiss should "be over" the abuse they experienced at the hands of Cardin and REDACTED, I would just like to point you to a video called "Injustice 2: Trauma Survival - Harley Quinn's Greatest Fear - Extra Credits " made by the wonderful people at Extra Credits on YouTube. The short version is: people DON'T "get over" their traumas. Ever. The best they can do is learn to live with it, and—if they're really lucky—their loved ones will learn to not just demand they "toughen up" or whatever.
> 
> So, that was interesting. Yay! More world building! So in case anyone was interested if there are other Were creatures in this universe, here’s your answer. The Fae will hopefully show up in a sequel. Just wait. What is a “Skinwalker,” and why does the Pack seem to hate them even more than Vampires? We’ll find out next time!


	11. Episode 11: Eve of War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Only two chapters left. Hard to believe, but that's how far we've come.
> 
> I actually meant to have this out last week. Sorry.

The Wolf—Skinwalker—leapt at them, jaws wide.  Weiss grabbed Ruby and dove to the side; the great beast crashing into the wall behind them.  Unfortunately, this put it between the two of them and the door, and it was getting to its feet again, shaking its head to clear it.

It still needed a few minutes to recover though, and in those few minutes Yang and Blake moved in.  The elder Vampire kicked the monster hard in the side.  It snarled at her, but it should've been paying attention to Yang, who hefted the small, motel room chair over her head and slammed it into the beast's back. 

_BANG!_

The blow was enough to cause the monster to fall to the floor, but it was getting up quick, and it was pissed.  The Skinwalker leapt again, and this time, its paw clawed Yang's leg.  The blonde grunted and fell to the ground, bleeding.

"Yang!" Ruby cried from beneath Weiss.  She tried to get out from under the Vampire, but Weiss held her down.  With the Sun up, they were all bereft of their powers, but unlike Ruby, Weiss had another option. One of her hands slipped into her pocket . . .

Blake tried to tackle the monster, leaping onto its back and wrapping her arms around its neck.  She squeezed tightly.  The beast reared up and slammed down on its back, Blake taking the brunt of the impact.  Stunned, she let go.  The monster rolled off her and onto its legs.  Growling, it turned to her, jaws opened, saliva dripping from its fangs.

Which was when Weiss jumped up and brought her arm down, swinging her switchblade in a wide arc, burying the blade in the beast's head. 

The Skinwalker made a strangled cough-like sound.  Then it slumped to the ground, twitching. 

"We . . . have to go," Blake said, getting to her feet.  She grabbed the handle of the knife Weiss had let go of when the animal had fallen.  She yanked it out savagely, drawing a spurt of blood.  The monster cried out in pain and twitched some more, then lay still.  Except it was still panting.  

Weiss could only stare at the incredible resilience of the creature that could survive a knife to the brain.  Ruby, meanwhile, had already scurried over to Yang and was helping her sister up.  Blake went over to the pair, pulling both to their feet. "Come on!" she said.  “Now!”

Weiss was ahead of them.  Going around the twisting and shifting beast, she yanked open the door.  Blake tossed her the car keys as she and Ruby supported the now limping  Yang.   The four hurred down the stairs—well, hurried as well as they could.  Weiss reached the van first and jumped into the front seat.  She shoved the key into the ignition and turned.  The engine roared to life, ready to take her as far away from all this as it could.  

The Flegling hit the “Unlock” button as her Sire and the two Wolves approached. They three piled into the backseat.  “Drive!” Blake ordered, but Weiss had already thrown the car into gear and hit the ignition.  Backing the car out of its spot, she almost collided with a tree behind them, but she slammed on the brakes, shifted into Drive, and once more floored it.

As the car sped away, a huge black shape flew out of the motel door they had exited just moments before.  It flew off into the distance, away from the them.

"What was that?" Weiss asked.

"A condor, I think," Blake said.  Although she was helping Ruby tend to the wound on Yang’s thigh, she paused to watch the large bird fly off.  "It doesn't matter.  Keep driving."

"Yang, put your hand on your wounds!" Ruby cried.  "Oh, dang.  That guy was a Werewolf—"

"He had the _skin_ of a Werewolf," Blake countered.  “Weiss, there are some napkins in the glove box.  Get them, please.

Ruby was not distracted.  "Whatever!  The point is, he has Werewolf claws and that means the wounds won't close by transforming!"

"What?" Weiss cried.  The car swerved as she tried to balance driving, fishing for napkins, and following the conversation in the backseat.  "Is that true?  Is Yang—'

"Watch the road," Blake instructed, sparing a glance back at Yang before looking out the window.  "And the skies.  He could be following us.  Yes, A Werewolf's fangs and claws, much like our venom, is capable of counteracting the enhanced recovery abilities of supernatural creatures."

“Great,”. Weiss muttered.  Finally finding the scraps of paper, she tossed them into the back.  Her passengers quickly formed a makeshift dressing for the wound.  Weiss heard the tearing of cloth.  She remained silent as they did what was needed.  After the sounds stopped, though, aside from some groaning from Yang, she asked the question that had been nagging her since the fight had begun.  "What was that thing?" Weiss asked, her eyes darting from between road and the sky, looking for any form of danger.  The great bird, the day-changing Werewolf, or an oncoming car.  "You called it a 'Skinwalker?'"

"We'll explain back at the house," Blake explained.  "The short version that it’s . . . dangerous." 

Yang snorted, and Weiss risked a wry comment.  “I noticed that.”

Blake sighed.  “You haven’t seen the half of it yet, Weiss.  Believe me.  You haven’t.” BLake paused before continuing  "That was a good move with your knife.  It probably saved us."

Weiss felt a swell of pride rise within her.  "Thank you," she said.  In the rear-view mirror, she saw Ruby fussing over Yang in the back, and the pride disappeared.  "I'm sorry I didn't think of doing it sooner."

"We're alive, Baby Vamp," Yang drolled.  "I'd say you reacted fast enough."

"Better than I did," Ruby said, morosely.  “All I did was flail around like a dying fish.”

Weiss felt as though she'd swallowed a rock.  Thankfully, Blake spoke.  "We were all taken by surprise.  If anyone is to blame, it should be me, because I've actually encountered them before."

"S'not your fault, Blake-y," Yang said.  "Now, I'll have a new sexy scar to show off."

Again, Weiss had to fight off a blush, but now for a different reason.  "Thanks for saving my knife for me, Blake," she said, trying to change the subject.

"It was yours," her Sire replied.  "Thank you for knowing how to use it.”

* * *

They made it back to the house with no trouble.  Blake called on the way, alerting Coco to what had happened.  Thus, everyone else had already assembled in the living room by the time they’d arrived.

”What’s a Skinwalker?” Weiss asked again.

”A Skinwalker is Human,” Velvet explained.  “Or at least, used to be Human.  I don’t know if anyone’s ever run a DNA test on them to check.  The important thing is, they start out as Witches, very powerful ones.  Or, at least very ruthless.  They perform a ritual, a _dark_  ritual.  I don’t know the details, but apparently it involves human sacrifice, and when it’s done, they can shapeshift into any animal so long as they acquire the skin of one specimen.”

”Witches aren’t real!” Ilia erupted.  Everyone turned to her, and the young woman spunk down between Yatsu and Yang.  “I mean, um . . .”

”You know most of us are Werewolves, and Blake and Weiss are Vampires, right?” Fox asked.  “And you’re a shapeshifter yourself?”

”Right.  Sorry,” Ilia said.  She looked terribly embarrassed.  Weiss sympathized with her; not too long ago, all of this had seemed ubelievable to her, too.  Then another thought occurred to her.

”That’s why everyone in the preternatural world hates Skinwalkers,” Blake explained.  “They’re killers.”

”And they’re unnatural in a way even we aren’t,” Neon said.

”And they can change during the day?”

”Velvet nodded.  “From what I understand, Skinwalkers don’t suffer from any of the drawbacks that Werewolves do.”

”They can change whenever they want, aren’t bothered by silver, and they maintain complete control of themselves in their transformer shape.  Oh, and supposedly they’re immortal.”

”Like Vampires.”

”No.  vampires are immortal as is.  Skinwalkers cheat by switching between their skins, letting different bodies take the damage and the aging and abandoning them when they get worn out.”

”That’s how it survived a knife to the head,” Yang remarked.

”So, to turn into a Werewolf . . .”

Coco nodded.  “Yeah, he’s killed one of us in the past.  Which brings the total body count on this guy up to 4. Minimum.”

”So how do we fight them?” May asked.  She turned to Blake.  “Aside from Arslan, you’re the only one who’s ever faced one of those things before.”

Blake nodded.  “It will be difficult.  The only way to defeat one is through relentless assault; each and every one of his skins must be destroyed.  Depending on how many skins he has acquired, what their abilities are, and what his skill level with them is, this may be a long battle.  We know he has at least one flying pelt available to him.  Also . . . The last Skinwalker I fought did not have the ability to transform into a Werewolf.  In fact, I’ve never heard of a Skinwalker with such power.”

”Neither have I,” Velvet admitted.

The consensus amongst the whole pack was identitical.  No one was even aware that Skinwalkers had that kind of power.

”So, this one is probably more dangerous than most,” Reese supplied.

Blake nodded.  “He may have other supernatural pelts at his disposal.”

”Oh, crap,” Neon whispered.  “Please tell me he can’t have a Fae skin.  Or a Halcyon.”

”It’s possible,” Velvet whispered.

”I think it unlikely,” Yatsu spoke up.  “If he had such power, why did he not employ it before now, to kill the others befor they could return home and warn us.  Actually, that reminds me, why is he doing any of this?”

”You mean aside from the fact that they’re murderers?” May asked.

”No,” Ren said.  “He clearly wants something.  Specifically, he seems to want to blame us for what’s happened.” 

“Maybe . . .” Weiss asked.  She shuddered when everyone turned to her.  “Never mind.”

”Spill it, Baby Vamp,” Coco said.  “The floor’s open.”

Swallowing, and gripping Ruby’s hand harder, Weiss spoke.  “Could it be, he wants our territory?”

"What would he want with this area?" May asked.  "It's not like the town was built on top of an interdimensional gateway or a buried treasure or anything.  We don't even have a community college, for crying out loud."

"Maybe that's the appeal," Fox suggested.  "Skinwalkers aren't welcome anywhere.  somewhere out of the way like this would be a pretty good place to hide out."

"It's why we're here," Ren said.

"It is," Coco acknowledged.  She sighed.  "Vel, I hate ask it, but can you whip up a tracking spell or something so we can find where this guy is hiding?"

"Weiss stabbed him with her knife right?" she asked.  "If you haven't washed the blood off yet, I can find him."

"I wiped it off," Weiss admitted.  "But, the napkins are still in the car."

"That should do it," Velvet said.  Yang tossed her the keys, and Velvet got up and went out to retrieve them. 

"May.  Reese.  Go with her," Coco said.

Velvet stopped.  "Are you worried he followed them back?"

"We didn't see anything," Ruby said.

Coco scoffed.  "Don't care.  The jerk could've changed skins while you weren't looking.  From now on, we use the buddy system.  Nobody is ever alone, and if an animal approaches you, treat it with suspicion.  Even if it's the sickliest, mangiest looking animal ever.  Anything bigger than a bug is a possible threat."  She sighed.  "Velvet, how long until the spell is done?"

"I have to fix Yang first," she said.

"Velv," Coco said.

"C'mon, Velvet," Yang said, grinning.  "I'm fine.  You don't need me to--ow!"  Yang's yelp had come from Blake jabbing the bandaged leg with her index finger.  "Traitor," Yang muttered.

"You know you'd be upset if you didn't get the chance for a rematch," Blake said, smiling.

"We can't go after him during the day, anyway," Velvet said.  "Until sunset, we're stuck in Human form."

"Fine," Coco said.  She sounded a little annoyed, but let it go much easier than Weiss would've expected.  "At least we can go out in force.  OK.  Break it up, people.  Get some rest while you can."

* * *

“Ruby?” Weiss asked.  “What were you talking about with Yang the other day?  Something about legends.”

”Oh,” The Werewolf said.  “I was talking about the origins of Vampires.”

”Really?” Weiss asked.  “What are they?”

”Well, the stories are mostly variations on the same story.  There’s a lot of them, but the important parts are all the same.  A long time ago—like thousands of years ago, caveman times—there was this pack of Werewolves.  And in this pack, there was a couple.  A Wolf and a Bitch, you understand.  They were close, really close, like soulmates.  But, one day, one of them was injured in a battle.  She—well, I don’t know it was a she; no one can agree on the genders, but I like to think they were both females.  Anyway, this Werewolf was dying, and you know that’s bad for us because we come back as undead killing machines, unless our heads are cut off, right?”

”Well, her mate wasn’t having any of that.  She travelled to this really powerful Witch and asked for help.  Stop her mate from dying.  The Witch said she couldn’t stop the Wolf from dying, only change what she turned into.  The healthy Wolf accepted this, and the bargain was struck.  They Witch performed some kind of spell, and the injured Wolf died, but she came back.  She couldn’t transform anymore, but she was stronger and faster and keener of senses than anything in Human form, and she healed better than true Werewolves and still had her deadly or contagious bite, but only at night.  Like her brothers and sisters, she was almost truly Human during the day.  And she still had to fear silver and fire.”

Weiss didn’t remember anyone ever saying fire was a problem for Werewolves too, but dropped it.  “And holy items?” she asked.  “What about those?”

Ruby shrugged.  “Some by-product of the spell.  Same as the bloodlust.”

”Actually,” Blake broke in.  Slipping into the room, she sat down beside the pair.  “I’ve heard the bloodlust is related to the Wolf’s hunger for fresh meat.  And the cost of our own extended lives.”

”Blake,” Weiss said.  “Is there any news from the others?”

”No,” Blake replied.  “I just came to keep an eye on you two.”

Weiss frowned.  "We do have some self-control, thank you very much."

Blake smiled.  "I might have believed that a couple days ago." 

Weiss blushed under the memory.  Surprisingly, Ruby did too, even though she wasn't a virgin.

”Anyway,” Blake continued, still looking smug.  “Velvet thinks she can create a tracking spell with the blood we recovered.  Though, first she has to heal Yang.”

“Is she OK?” Ruby asked.  Weiss winced, remembering the condition her maybe-girlfriend’s sister/her mentor’s lover was in.  How could she be so careless?

”she’s in no immediate danger,” Blake said.  “However, the Skinwalker’s claws are definitely Werewolf claws.   So, she’s going to need Velvet's help to heal them.”

”And you’re all right with that?” Weiss asked.  And immediately regretted it.  When was she going to stop looking for trouble?

”If it gets my mate back in health, then yes,” Blake said.  “Yang’s health means more to me than sexual exclusivity—even if we were human, it would.”

”And we’re not,” Weiss said.

”It’s OK, Weiss,” Ruby said, rubbing her arm.  “You’re still getting used to all this.”

”And as I said before, Vampires are possessive,” Blake added.  “So, you’ve got double the baggage.”

”Right,” Weiss said, absently.  Beside her, Ruby seemed to withdraw into herself.  “Ruby? Are you all right?”

”Huh?  Oh, yeah.  I’m fine.  Right as rain!  Oh, hey!  Blake, what you got there?”

"Hm.  This?  This would be the other reason I came.”  Blake obviously recognized the dodge but was willing to go along with it for the time being.   Reaching back, Blake withdrew a short, curved object, about a foot in length.  For a moment, Weiss had the horrible thought that the older Vampire was giving her a sex toy.  Then, she realized that one end was made of a different material than the rest of it, and the two sections were separated by a circular bit of metal.  

“Is that a sword?” Weiss asked.

Blake nodded.  “It’s a _wakizashi_ _,_ a samurai’s short sword.”

”It’s a family heirloom,” Ruby whispered.

”What?” Weiss asked.

Blake nodded.  “It’s true.  This has been in my family for generations.” 

“You were a samurai?” Weiss asked.

Blake threw back her head and laughed.  “I’m not that old, Weiss!  I was born in Honolulu, only about a hundred years ago.”  She said it like she was barely older than Weiss, instead of older than her Fledgling’s father.  “My family just kept some of their old things.  After I was sired, I kept some of their things.  That’s all.”

"Oh.  Why do you have it?” Weiss asked.

"I’m giving it to you,” Blake said.  She held out the weapon in both hands, as though she were offering a baby.

Her Fledgling drew in a breath.  “Why?  Blake, this is . . .”

The older Vampire nodded.  “Weiss, these are dangerous times for the pack, and we all need to be prepared.”  She smiled softly.  “You know how to use that switchblade, but it’s not the best weapon.  I thought this would be a more appropriate tool.”

"But, Blake, this belongs in your family,” Weiss whispered, looking down.  She saw Blake’s hands retract the blade, and she thought that was that.  Then a pair of strong arms enveloped her. “Wha—?”

Blake pulled back from the hug.  “Weiss, you are my family.  I know it’s only been a few months, but you are everything I could have asked for in a daughter or a sister.  You are my Fledgling. This feels right.  Please accept it."

Weiss' eyes watered.  _Family._   It had been so long . . .  too long since she'd had a family.  Her throat felt tight; she couldn't talk.  Instead, the Fledgling reached out and took the blade into her hands.  Blake smiled and pulled her back into a hug.  Behind her, Ruby pounced and did the same.  The embrace was warm and strong and soft and everything she could've asked for.  The trio stayed like that for a while.

* * *

Yang lay on a blanket Coco had fetched for Velvet and spread on the floor.  The blonde was nude, though her beauty was somewhat marred by her present condition.  

"Let me know if I do anything too uncomfortable, all right?" Velvet asked, also bereft of clothing.

Yang snorted.  "Velvet, the entire point of us doing this is that I'm uncomfortable."

The Witch frowned.  "Yang, be serious," she said.  "A Werewolf's claws did these.  You know what that means."

"Yeah, yeah," Yang said.  "If we don't take care of this now, I'll be scarred for life."

"And you risk infection," Velvet pointed out.  "Also, you'll be slowed and weakened in battle putting yourself and others at risk.  Please tell me you know that this is about more than you being 'uncomfortable.'"

The blonde Werewolf made a face.  "Fine, Dr. Velvet, this is bad, and I'm glad you're willing to take the time to have some magic loving with me to get me fixed up again." 

Velvet snorted.  And Coco added, "Blake is a saint, putting up with a bitch like you.  You realize that, right?"

Yang smiled.  "And I thank her for it every day.  Or, close to it, anyhow.  Usually with kisses—and not just on the lips, you know." 

“That’s sweet,” Velvet said and meant it.  Then, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “Healing through love,” she whispered.  When she opened her eyes again, they were hooded, almost drowsy.  She crailed up and pressed her body against Yang’s, using her body position to keep her weight mostly off the other woman’s injury.  She leaned down  forward and kissed Yang on the mouth.  Her lips parted, and Yang felt their breath exchange.  Once, twice, three times.  It felt as though they were trading more than air.  As though Velvet were sucking something out of her and replacing it.  

Velvet’s hand ghosted over her injury and Yang winced a little, but then Velvet moved down, kissing Yang’s throat, collarbone, between her breasts, her navel, and finally her mons.  The Witch massaged the wound while simultaneously licking up Yang’s shaven slit.  Kissing her labia and plunging her tongue into the female’s pussy.  Yang moaned under the simultaneous sensations of pleasure and pain.  

Velvet replaced her tongue with two fingers, thrusting in and out of Yang’s pussy while her tongue and mouth kissed and then began licking her clit.  Velvet’s tongue traced runes and sigils of power and healing as she channeled feelings of affection, concern, and well wishing into her actions, thoughts of healing and mending and strength.  

Yang howled as she came.  Velvet kept licking, drawing out the end of Yang’s climax.  When she was done, she pulled back and untied the bandages around Yang’s leg.  The skin was clean and unblemished.  

Yang ran her hand over the formerly injured area.  “Velvet, you are one of a kind.”

Coco chuckled from her spot on the couch.  “Ain’t that the truth.”

* * *

Jaune sat down at his desk that night, filling out the paperwork for the release of Arslan Altan.  _It was the Feds who'd locked her up,_ he thought.  _So, why am I filling out the paperwork for their screw-up?_   The answer he knew was power (which the FBI had) and respect (which the FBI didn't have—for Beacon, anyway).  Hopefully, the folks at the Café wouldn't hold this against him.  OK, they hadn't earlier when they'd visited their friend, but you never know how insults and injustices could fester in the long run—Oh, wait.  Reese and May were standing right in front of his desk.

"She'll be out in a minute, ladies," he said.  "Just finishing up the red tape."

"That's good," May said, frowning.  "But Arslan isn't the only reason we're here."

"Oh?"

Reese nodded, and then, said without a hint of humor or irony, “Officer, we’d like to report a crime."

". . . What happened?” Jaune asked.

“Assault,” May replied.  “Four of our co-workers were attacked by a man named Tyrian Callows.”

"Oh," Jaune said.  The pair didn't look overly concerned for their friends—they seemed to be looking at the windows a whole lot like they expected a S.W.A.T. team to burst through at any second, but otherwise they seemed all right.  "Um, I guess they're OK?" he asked.

Reese smiled.  "Very much.  They're back at the house, recovering."

"All right,” Jaune replied, sighing in relief.  He opened a drawer and pulled out another form.  “You know we’ll have to speak to the victims directly?”  Despite the Café folks' unique status with Beacon and its law enforcement, there were still rules that had to be followed, especially if you wanted to present evidence to the judges over in Vytal the next day.

"That’ll need to wait,” May said.  “They’re . . . Traumatized.  Need time to recover.”

". . . How much time?”  The two women turned and looked at each other.  Jaune sighed.  “OK.  What do you not want me to put in the report?”

"If we don’t want you to put it in the report why would we tell you?” May asked.

Jaune sighed.  “I promise, I won’t tell anyone but Port.  You know you can’t trust him.  Just give us something to work with.  Please.”

"He confessed to being the killer,” Reese said.

"Reese!” May hissed.

"What!" Jaune sat up.  He blushed as everyone in the office looked his way.  Ducking his head, he asked in a low voice.  "Are you sure?"

Reese nodded.  "They went to interview him about his opinions of the events and caught him in a lie.  He admitted to being the killer and then attacked them.  They barily escaped."

Jaune sighed.  "Well, at least I can tell Port we have a name."

"Pretty soon, you can tell the people the search is over," May grumbled.

”Can we help?” 

The two looked at Jaune.  “This isn’t your fight, Arc,” May said.

”It’s my job,” he insisted.  

“No; it’s our job!” May insisted.

”Listen, Jaune,” Reese said.  “This means a lot to us.”  May snorted.  “Really, it does.  But, you have to stay out of it.”

 "You can't ask me to stay out of this," Jaune said.  "My job is to protect the people of this town.  Er, well, not a town, but you get what I mean.  I took an oath to do that, no matter how dangerous it is."  He swallowed.  "And that's one promise I intend to honor."

"You weren't considering this when you swore that," Reese argued.

"I don't care," the officer answered.  "I can't let you do this alone."

Resse sighed.  "Jaune . . ."

"Actually, you can help us," May said.  The other two looked at her, shocked expressions on their faces.  In fact, they even jumped a little.  Apparently, they were too engrossed in their conversation to remember she was there. "Yang bled a little in the motel room.  So did . . . Callows."  The pink-haired woman made a face. "It would be . . . a problem if anyone were to examine their blood.  You know.  They might find some . . . weird things in the results."

"Oh," Jaune said, and the women held their breath.  This was a bigger favor than anything they'd ever asked of Jaune before; it was asking him to tamper with police evidence.  Not to mention, it was as close as they'd ever come to admitting they weren't human.

"I guess it's a good thing the samples got contaminated then," Jaune said, reaching for the phone.  "I'll tell Sargent Port."

* * *

 ”Listen, Jaune,” Pyrrha said.  "I think it would be best if you avoided those women from now on."

"Eh, I don't think that's possible, Pyrrha," Jaune said, slowly.  "It's not that big a town."

"You know what I mean," the redhead replied.  “Stay away from those women, Jaune.  They’re trouble.”

”You would think that, wouldn’t you,” Jaune said, frowning now.  “I know Ironwood is convinced they’re prostitutes or drug dealers, but they’re not!”

“They’re good people.  They’ve done a lot of good for this town.  Their club brings in a lot of money in the off-season when there are no tourists to bolster our little economy.  I know Coco’s been invited to speak about business in the high school, and for that matter, Arslan and Yatsuhashi and some of the others have been asked to help with self-defense classes for the kids.  And they show up for the games and other public events bringing cookies and soup and other stuff.” 

Pyrrha tried again. “They’re—”

“They’re good people!” Jaune yelled.

Pyrrha sighed as she walked off.  It was perhaps too good to be true.  Way too many cops dated strippers; he was still male, and like many males,was capable of being distracted by a sexy woman.  And Werewolves were known for being highly sexual. She’d hoped Jaune could be better.  Well, he was better than most, but he was still too innocent to recognize danger when it stood in front of him.

* * *

 Ironwood growled.  Nothing.  There was nothing.  He and his people had torn that entire building upside down.  Nothing.  Nothing but a few weapons that had been legally registered.  No illegal weapons.  No weed, coke, acid, heroin, or meth.  No drugs at all other than booze.  No prescription pills except the birth control variety, which was hardly proof of prostitution.  No hidden chambers or anything suggestive of human trafficking. They had found some jewelry hidden underneath the floorboards, but it wasn’t listed as missing.  He could probably use that as an excuse to poke around their house again, though he had no real hope there; assuming he even got the search warrant and the judge didn’t just say someone felt more comfortable hiding their valuables there instead of at home.  Dumb, but not really illegal.

And to top it all off, they had to let the one they had go.  Typically.  Just fucking typical.

“Good morning, Boss,” Sun said.

Ironwood looked up at him.  The blonde’s hair was mussed, a not-so-subtle way of bragging he’d gotten lucky the night before.  Beside him, Neptune was perfectly maintained but looked tired, his eyes drifting towards his partner.  Ironwood huffed under his breath.  No doubt the pair had found a prostitute, or at least a woman with low standards, to share the night before.  The idiots thought he didn’t know about their relationship.  He knew, of course, but as the two weren’t in direct chain of command, he couldn’t do anything about it.  Likewise, he only had rumors and supposition to support the idea that they hired women to join them.  So, he left them to their own debauched devices; at least they closed cases.

 “Any news, Wukong?” The senior agent asked.  “Vasilias?”

The pair’s grins grew wider.  “Oh, yeah,” Neptune said.  “Great news, sir.”

”Well, not great news to Tyrian Callows,” SUn admitted.  “But we may have finally found something on Adel and her . . . Gang?  Posse?  Pack?”

”Whores,” Ironwood growled.  The pair flinched at his language, as if they didn't proposition the women in question every time they came to this den of iniquity.  “What have you found?”

”Four of them went to see the guy in his motel room,” Sun said.  “And now he’s disappeared.”

”And his room is trashed,” Neptune said. “There are claw marks on the walls.”

“Good,” Ironwood grunted.  “Let’s go have a chat—”

”Hold up, old boy!” a familiar but oh so hated voice said behind him.  Ironwood ground his teeth as he turned around to see Port’s smiling face.  “We’ve already taken a statement from the people involved.  Wouldn’t it be more prudent to begin hunting for Mr. Callows?”

”You think Callows is still alive?” Ironwood asked.

”The witnesses say he is.”

”Witnesses?” Ironwood asked.  “What witnesses?”

”The four women who were attacked,” Port said.  “They came by just a few minutes ago to report the assault.  Amazingly enough, they claim the man even confessed to the murders before he attacked!”

”WHAT?” Ironwood yelled.

”You’re kidding,” Neptune said.  

“Yeah, What is this guy?” Sun asked.  “A super villain?”

“Who took this statement?” Ironwood asked.

”I did, sir,” Officer Arc said, coming up.  

Ironwood frowned at the man.  “And you trust this officer’s . . . Integrity?”

Arc’s eyes widened at the implication, and Port finally lost some of his good cheer.  “Now see here,” Port said.

Ironwood cut him off.  ”Get off your high horse, Port.  Officer Arc is a known associate and patron of the . . . women involved as well as their place of business.”  Beside him, Sun and Neptune looked uncomfortable.  Apparently they were now regretting having informed him of that fact.  Idiots.

Port, however, was having none of it.  “Do you know how small this town is, James?  Everyone knows each other.  The normal rules of disassociation don’t work here.”

”Then perhaps the Bureau should be take over this case entirely,” Ironwood said.  Behind him, both of his teammates stiffened.  No doubt they didn’t like the idea of having to do everything on their own.  Maybe he couldn’t justify it to the higher ups later,  it it felt good to see the arrogant, dirty seargent sweat at his words.

”That’s unnecessary, Special Agent Ironwood,” a voice cut in.  It was Agent Nikos.  “We need local support to run an investigation.”

”We?”  Ironwood asked.  “We?  You’re not a part of my team, Nikos.  You have no say in this.”

”No, but I can contact people who do have a say,” she said.   “So stop trying to pick a fight with the locals and focus on the big picture.  We have a solid lead on the killer, and we can’t risk losing that.”

Ironwood ground his teeth.  Stupid, self-righteous . . . Damn it, now he had to work with Port and his corrupt, incompetent department.  It would be harder to dig into Adel and her group.  Maybe he could force Port to let him interview them later.

* * *

Velvet held up the blood-stain napkin.  Before her sat a small, bronze bowl filled with a mixture of herbs.   Across from her, drinking Velvet's customary bottle of whiskey, was Ruby.  The younger wolf had drained about half the vessel's contents when she finally set the bottle down, swaying a little.

Weiss, watching this, was none too happy.  "Why is Ruby doing this?" she whispered.  Despite what she knew about Werewolf physiology—including the facts that Ruby was older than she looked and that Werewolves had a higher tolerance for drugs than humans—she couldn't help but worry.  "Um," Yang whispered back.  "She hasn't told you?"

"Hasn't told me what?" Weiss asked.

"Ask Ruby herself later," Blake said.  "Now quite."

Ruby picked up a match and tried to light it.  Unfortunately, her dexterity wasn't quite good enough at that moment, and she swiped the match across the cover instead of the strike bar.  Velvet reached out and gently took her packmate's hands in her own.  Together, they lit the match, then dropped it into the bowl.  The herbs began burning, smoke rising up.  Even from where she was, Weiss wrinkled her nose at the scent, but Ruby breathed it in deeply.  Once.  Twice.   Velvet handed the napkin over to Ruby and whispered some words in Irish to her, and the russet-haired wolf repeated them aloud.  _"Cosúil le Scamaill an Spéir, lig dom a fheiceáil Cén áit a théann sé seo ar siúl. Cosúil leis an nGaoth trí na Crainn, lig dom a fheiceáil nuair a bhraitheann an ceann seo. Cosúil leis na Scáileanna ar an bhForas, lig dom a fheiceáil nuair a chodlaíonn an duine seo. De réir mar a ghlaonn Fola ar Fola, de réir mar a dhéanann an Chuid an t-iomlán, taispeáin dom an áit ina bhfuil an ceann seo suite!"_  

As she spoke the final syllable, Ruby dropped the bloody paper into the mixture.  For a brief instant, Weiss thought she saw a flash but not.  As though she saw two images at the same time.  The Fledgling Vampire shook her head.   She opened her eyes again and saw Ruby breath the fumes in once more.  Closing her eyes, the young Werewolf arched her back, leaning her head back as she closed her eyes, breathing heavy. 

"Hu-uh!" Ruby gasped, jerking a little, and if Blake hadn't immediately grasped Weiss' hand, the Vampire would've run to her side.  Ruby held that position for a moment, panting, before exhaling heavily and slumping the ground. 

This time Blake couldn't restrain Weiss, and the Vampire rushed to her girlfriend's side.  Velvet had crawled over to her and was already cradling the redhead's head.  Coco was leaning down beside her; in fact the whole pack seemed to be closing in.  "Ruby!"  Weiss cried.  "Ruby!  Are you all right?"

Ruby's eyes fluttered.  "I, I saw him," she said.  "I saw him!"

"Where is he, pup?" Coco asked, quieter than usual.  Weiss looked up at her.  Really?  She couldn't spare a minute of concern for Ruby?  Never mind that she had a softer look on her face than any Weiss had ever seen on her before.

"He's in the woods, near the police building," Ruby replied.  "He's a wolf.  Not a Werewolf—a regular wolf."

"Hm, I guess your knife trick worked, Weiss-y," Yang said.

"Do you think, Arslan?  Blake?" Coco asked.

". . . Maybe," Arslan said.  "I don't know how much of the skin's original owner's power is retained.  The Skinwalker my parents and elders battled only had ordinary skins."

"Jaune said the motel room didn't have anything that could pass as an animal skin," Reese said.

"Then, we can't say for sure," Blake said.

"But if the skin's still good, why not use it?" Nora asked.  "Who wants to be a boring old wolf when they can be a Werewolf?"

"Maybe he needs time for the skin to heal itself?" Yatsu offered.

"That would mean he can regenerate like we do," Ciel said.  "Do you think so?"

"I don't know," Blake answered.  "The last time I encountered one, I barely escaped with my life.  I've spent a lot of time studying them in the past, but all I know is hearsay and conjecture."  She turned to Arslan, who shrugged.

"My elders didn't tell me much about their battle with the Skinwalker," the Arabic woman said.  "But I don't think they gave it the chance to regenerate.  The impression they gave me was that they repeatedly attacked it again and again, eventually destroying every one of its skins."

"Not that this isn't fascinating," Coco broke in, "but we've gotten off topic, if the Skinwalker can still use its Were skin, why isn't it?

"Perhaps he doesn't want to risk it," Penny offered.  "Revealing Werewolves exist puts him in danger as well.  Even just a rumor of some kind of unknown canine-like species could be enough to send Hunters here."

"They're probably already coming," Yang muttered.

"We've dealt with them before," Coco said.

"What?" Weiss finally looked up from Ruby.  "Hunters have come to Beacon?"

The others nodded.  "Most residents won't talk about us," Velvet said.  "And even if they did, most wouldn't believe them."

"But people still get drunk," May said. 

"Or tell stories they don't really believe to scare their friends," Fox added.

"Bottom line is, Hunter occasionally come here to look for Werewolves to hunt for sport," Coco said.  Weiss' breath hitched.  Ruby's mother had been killed by men like that.  "We're bigger than most packs, and smarter than some, so we've made it out OK, so far."

"But more Hunters will come," Arslan said.  "If they aren't on their way already.  The Skinwalker has drawn a lot of attention to us.  As well as the serial killer in Vytal."

"Think it was the one who attacked Weiss?" Fox asked. 

"Probably," Arslan replied.

"Almost certainly," Ciel added.

”Who cares?” May asked.  “We can deal with this bastard now, and the other one later.”

”We should have gone after that Vamp earlier,” Arslan said.

”It was a losing proposition,” Coco said.  When her second-in-command crowned at her, she shrugged.  “I’ll take it under advisement.  For now, May’s right.  Let’s load up and move out troops.”

”What about Ruby?” Weiss asked.

”And lizard girl?” Neon added.

”Ilia is willing to stay locked in the basement.”  This got her more than a few odd looks.  “Yeah. I know; it’s not the most ideal situation, but we still can’t trust her completely, and she doesn’t want anything to do with hunting the Skinwalker, So this is the best compromise.”

”She willingly agreed to it,” Ciel pointed out.

”She wasn’t happy about it,” Fox said.  “I heard her voice, but she’s also conflicted about us.  I don’t think she’ll be overly concerned about her surroundings.”

“So, there,” Coco said.  “Like I said, load up and roll out, sluts.  We got a Skinwalker to kill.”

”What about Ruby?” Weiss repeated.  The others were breaking up, heading off to wherever whatever Skinwalker-hunting gear they had was located.  She still held the exhausted redhead in her arms.

”It’s OK, Weiss,” Ruby said, getting up.  “Though I wish I had a breath mint or something.”

”Here you go,” Velvet said, passing a box of tic-tacs to the young Wolf.

”Are you sure you’re all right?” Weiss asked.

“PSHHH!” Yang snorted.  “Of course, she is, Weiss!  It takes more than one little spell to bring my baby sis down.”

”It had better, if she wants to be a Witch,” May observed as she walked up the stairs.

”Witch?” Weiss asked.  “What?”  Turning to Ruby she asked, “You want to be a Witch?”

Runy frowned.  “Well, yeah.  I’ve been asking Velvet for a couple years to make me her apprentice.  She’s been lecturing me about the philosophy and stuff, but this is the first time she let me cast a spell.  Since she couldn’t drink while she’s pregnant, she finally agreed to let me try.”  The young woman smiled semi-sourly.  “I don’t think I want to do it again anytime soon.  I think I’ve got a hangover.”

”Divination isn’t the funnest form of magic,” Velvet admitted.  “Maybe we should do healing spells next.

”Sounds good,” Ruby said.  “C’mon, Weiss!”

Weiss didn’t respond.  She got up on autopilot.  Ruby was studying to be a Witch.  Like Velvet.  Velvet’s spells involved sex.  So Ruby . . .

Damn it.  She knew Ruby wasn’t a virgin.  Knew that the pack was . . . intimate, so why did she feel like her insides were falling apart in on themselves?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, yay! Everyone’s getting ready for the big mess that will be the final confrontation. And Weiss and Ruby pick the worst time to discuss their relationship possible! I'm sure that won't lead to any problems whatsoever.
> 
> I’ve tried to hint at Ruby’s plans to become a Witch a little over the course of the story (you’ll notice she tends to know a lot about Velvet’s spells and paid a lot of attention to her when she cast the eyeball spell). Was it properly foreshadowed?
> 
> Also, more lore! Keep that story in mind because, it’s come up again in future stories.
> 
> The Translation of Ruby's spell is "Like the Clouds of the Sky, let me see where This One Walks. Like the Wind through the Trees, let me see where This One feeds. Like the Shadows on the Ground, let me see where This One sleeps. As Blood calls to Blood, as the Part yearns for the Whole, show me the one where This One abodes!"


End file.
